


The Doctor Is In

by CleverUsernameHere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dark Dean, Doctor/Patient, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Physical Abuse, Rimming, Spanking, Stockholm Syndrome, Underage Sex, Underaged Sam, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-18 00:36:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverUsernameHere/pseuds/CleverUsernameHere
Summary: Sam has a crush on his doctor, Dean Smith, but when he goes in for his appointment he gets more than he bargained for





	1. Chapter 1

“Let’s see… Samuel Winchester?” The deep call of Doctor Smith’s voice had Sam looking up from one of the waiting room magazines. The older man gave him a smile and Sam nervously stood from his chair. Sam wasn’t a fan of going to the doctor, but not for the reason one would expect.

At the ripe age of sixteen Sam had found himself with a crush on his pediatrician, doctor Smith. Whenever he saw those emerald eyes on him it made him blush. The way his gruff voice spoke Sam’s name had him wondering what doctor Smith would sound like in a different context. He was on edge every time they were alone, afraid he’d embarrass himself.

Sam cursed internally and bit his lip in an attempt to push back those thoughts. He glanced back at his father, who didn’t look up from his own magazine.

“You feeling alright?” Doctor Smith questioned when Sam’s feet dragged as he walked towards him. The doctor closed the door to the waiting area and led Sam to get his examinations.

“Yeah, just tired, I guess.” Sam shrugged and kept his eyes on the ground.

“Sleep is very important, especially at your age.” Sam nearly scoffed at the doctor’s advice. If he could get those stupidly gorgeous green eyes and plump pink lips out of his dreams then maybe he could. 

Instead Sam nodded. “Whatever you say, Sir.”

Sam missed the way the doctor’s expression faulteted, which was for the best. “Let’s get your height and weight.” Dean turned his back on the boy and internally scolded himself. He was supposed to be the kid’s doctor for Christ sakes. He shouldn’t be affected when Sam called him by that title.

“Shoes on or off?” Sam’s shy voice interrupted his inner monologue.

“Off.” Sam found himself being guided backwards against the wall by the doctor, who was a bit rougher when pushing Sam back than he’d admit. 

If Sam had it his way, Dean would be staring into his eyes, cornering him against the wall. But, sadly, reality got in the way and Sam knew his gaze was above Sam’s head, looking at the ruler printed on the wall.

“You’re getting taller.” Dean commented, stepping away to write on his clipboard. “You play basketball, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” Sam nodded even though Dean’s back was turned. He however did see the doctor’s shoulders tense, but he ignored it. “I’m point guard.”

“That’s quite impressive.” Dean hummed and turned back. Dean looked Sam up and down. “Those long legs of yours probably help, don’t they?” Dean chuckled in an attempt to ease the one-sided tension.

“I guess so.” Sam’s voice nearly cracked when Dean’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Without a word he allowed the doctor to guide him up onto the scale.

Over the next few minutes doctor Smith checked his weight along with his vision and ears, peppering in more compliments than necessary. Nevertheless, they made Sam feel good.

Then they went to the private room. Sam sat on the cushioned check-up bed and waited silently for doctor Smith to return, trying carefully to not rip the paper sheet beneath him. When the door opened, Sam looked up from his swinging legs. 

“I’m gonna take your blood pressure, okay?” Doctor Smith explained. “I’m gonna need you to take off your sweatshirt, it’s too thick.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek and mumbled out, “I don’t have anything under it.” It was true, he’d completely forgotten about the appointment and his father had rushed him. He had been showering after basketball practice when his father nearly knocked down the bathroom door, saying if they were late then the office would reschedule. His jeans and his red team sweatshirt was all he was able to throw on. 

“That’s just fine.” Sam nearly missed his words, too focused on the way the doctor’s pink tongue darted out past his plump lips. Sam could attempt to roll up his sleeves but he knew it wouldn’t work, the clothing was too baggy. “Take it off.”

Dean loved how quickly Sam followed his orders. He was such a polite boy. But sometimes it was too much for Dean. Like when Sam called him ‘sir’. “Yes sir,” “no sir,'' lord it drove him a little crazy. He was a professional and yet every time the young man called him by that title it showed a sign of submission that was fuel to the fire stirring within Dean. 

Sam’s shivered slightly as the cool air brushed over his skin. The cold made his nipples harden slightly and oh god he was embarrassed now. He squeezed his hoodie in his lap, seeking the warmth from it.

Dean couldn’t help but admire his body. Yes, Sam was a bit lanky, but he could see the abs forming on the growing boy. His arms were getting muscular as well, biceps bulging when he shivered. He had a slight tan going that fit him perfectly and it took everything Dean had to look away from his body. Sam gave a tight lipped smile and his sweet dimples showed. Damn, why was every aspect of him so distracting? Nice body to fit a cute face.

Sam’s cheeks heat up despite the cold under his doctor’s gaze, wondering what was going on in the man’s head. Dean was eyeing him up and down wordlessly. Sam felt insanely self conscious, praying for this to hurry up so he could hide beneath his sweatshirt once more. The last thing he wanted was for the doctor to dislike his looks.

Both snapped out of their dazes as doctor Smith opened the thick velcro arm cuff and wrapped it around Sam’s bicep. Once it was secure the doctor squeezed the pump and told Sam to breath deeply. His large hand wrapped around Sam’s forearm. Even the slightest touch had him wanting more.

“Good, good.” Doctor Smith removed the medical device and made a note to himself on Sam’s forms. “I’m gonna check your heart rate. 

‘Just great’, Sam thought to himself. Whenever Dean touched him he couldn’t help the reaction. Every time he was able to calm himself just in time, but with the intense way the doctor had been looking at him he knew he’d be busted. 

The cool metal of the stethoscope pressed against Sam’s chest and he shivered. “Deep breath for me, Sammy.” God, he hated that nickname, but it didn’t seem so bad when doctor Smith called him that. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled out his mouth. “Good boy.”

Dean’s words were low but Sam heard the praise and bit his lip. The doctor moved the metal circle a bit to the right, the sleeve of his white coat brushed against Sam’s tender nipple and he let out a surprised gasp.

Dean spared him the embarrassment of calling him out. He smirked to himself as he listened to the young man’s heart beat quicken. With each deep breath he listened to Sam’s beating heart and he wondered if it was because of him. If his touches were doing that to Sam. When he pressed the stethoscope to Sam’s back he tested his theory and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Breathe, Sam.” Dean muttered against his ear.

Sam hadn’t even realized his breath had hitched as his heart pounded. Dean’s heavy hand was on his shoulder, gently rubbing. Sam could feel his breath against his ear as he instructed Sam. His taunt skin was still warm despite the cold air, so nice and smooth beneath Dean’s hand.

Sam sighed in relief when that part of the physical finally finished. Sam slowly pulled his sweatshirt back on, wishing he could hide inside of it until his face wasn’t red. He hated how the least bit of contact drove him wild. It was just a stupid crush, he told himself. ‘Get over it and get out of here. He’d never look at you like that, idiot.’

“You mind if I ask you some questions, Sam?’ Sam hadn’t realized that he’d been staring off into space, completely lost in his own head. Dean had taken a seat now in his chair. Sam nodded and Dean looked to his clipboard questionnaire. “There’s only a few, I’ll make it quick. Promise.”

Once again Sam nodded, stuffing his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and kept his eyes on the ground. He wasn’t sure he could look at the older man without feeling self-conscious. 

“How many hours do you sleep on average?” 

“Seven maybe? Between school and practice and games I always have something I need to do.” Sam admitted with a shrug, holding back other details that kept him awake.

“That’s not healthy, Sam. You need at least 9 hours.” Dean cared about Sam’s well-being. He knew the kid had a lot on his plate and never seemed to relax. “Next question…”

The next few questions were the usual ones he expected. “Have you been eating well?”, “how are your grades?”, “any developing allergies?”, blah, blah blah. Okay, so Sam zoned out a bit, mindlessly answering the questions. He’d memorized the answers to most after enough visits. He’s been playing basketball for years, up-to-date psychicals were a requirement.

“Have you engaged in any recent sexual activity?” Sam nearly choked on his own tongue at the doctor’s inquiry. He’d never asked that before, and Sam never even expected it. Oh god, he wanted to hide. His cheeks were once again red, redder than before in embarrassment. It had been uncomfortable enough when his dad had given him the talk and now his doctor- who happened to be his crush- asked like it was no big deal.

“I- n-no.” Sam shook his head, unable to look away from Dean once his eyes landed on his face. His features were so defined, the definition of physical perfection. 

‘Good’ is the first thought that went through Dean’s mind. Dean’s conscious was telling him to drop it, to just let it go. It wasn’t even a question on the form, he just needed to know for his own sanity. 

“How about relationships?” The older man locked his eyes on Sam, relishing in the way he blushed and shifted. “Any girlfriends? Boyfriends?” He knew he was getting too personal, but Dean assured himself that he would be fine with just knowing. He wouldn’t do anything about his impure thoughts.

“No.” Sam replied curtly.

“Why’s that?” Dean hid his relief well.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ve got someone else on the mind.” Sam’s cheeks were flushed, his bottom lip was swollen from his teeth nibbling at it. And the way his eyes locked on Dean’s before darting away had Dean checking all the boxes. Screw his conscious.

“That’s the last of the questions, but there’s one more exam I’d like to do.” Dean stands from his chair and moves to walk in front of Sam. “Have you ever heard of a prostate exam?” Oh god he’s breaking so many rules; legal and ethical. Yet, he can’t find himself caring.

Sam’s eyes go wide like saucers. “I- I know what it is…” Sam’s throat feels so dry. “I thought it was only for, y’know… old guys.” At that Dean chuckles.

“You can never be too safe.” Sam’s heart rate increases and he nods before he can even think. Yep, Dean’s sure he’s officially going to hell for tricking Sam, but he promised himself he’d at least make it worth it for both of them. “I’m gonna need you to stand at the end of the bed and bend over.” The older man's voice is nearly a growl and Sam obeyed without hesitation.

Dean makes sure to lock the door then retrieves vaseline and medical gloves, he’s a professional after all. Doctor Smith stands behind Sam, heavy hands land on Sam’s shoulders. Sam drops from his hands to his elbows beneath the pressure. A much more submissive position, just the way Dean wants. His latex covered hands sneak around Sam’s taunt waist and flip open the button on his jeans. He can feel Sam twitch under his touch and he smiles, knowing the young boy can’t see.

The sound of Sam’s zipper coming undone makes the young boy close his eyes. He’s thought about being in the position for doctor Smith before, but this was far from the romantic scenario he’d created in his head. He felt as Dean’s thumbs tucked into the waistband of his pants before he felt them slip from his waist. 

“Just relax, Sammy.” Dean muttered, focused on the way he was laid out in front of him like a gift. With his pants around his thighs, Sam once again felt the effects of the cold air. His legs tensed when he felt the latex covered hands touch his waist, tugging at his boxers. In that moment, Sam was glad they were a plain black and not the lame patterned ones his father had picked out to embarrass him.

Slowly, with lust blown eyes, doctor Smith pulled his boxers down his thighs until the young boy was completely exposed. Nice round cheeks and a tight rosebud, better then Dean had pictured. Dean could barely see Sam’s cock as it hung between his legs, but he caught a glimpse. He was impressed at the size and fought the urge to touch. 

“You feeling okay?” Dean smirked when the young boy put up no fight. Instead he arched his back and leaned forward, giving Dean better access. It’s like he was begging Dean for it.

“Just a bit cold.” That was an absolute lie. Yes, he was cold, but that wasn’t all. His heart was pounding, his face was probably as red as a tomato, and he could feel the blood rushing to his cock beneath Dean’s touch. All the sensations flooded his body at once. He couldn’t help himself. He was unsure what Dean was doing now, but he could hear the sound of a cap being unscrewed.

Both felt as if they were deceiving the other, unknown that they were on the same page. Sam played the innocent patient and Dean the concerned doctor. The fantasy suited reality well.

Dean felt Sam squirm below him, the telltale sound of the paper sheet crinkling was a dead giveaway. Two of his vaseline lubed fingers pressed to Sam’s hole and Dean pushed in without warning, his desire for Sam’s honest reaction to strong. The young boy didn’t disappoint.

He moaned. Sam fucking moaned. He couldn’t control the sound that escaped. The sensation was new and surprisingly good. His head was practically spinning when Dean’s fingers curled. The spot he had hit sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock. 

“There it is.” Dean hummed to himself when Sam whimpered. The young boys hips subconsciously rocked back against him as his cock twitched in attention. Dean’s tongue poked out past his lips and he bit back a groan. 

It only look a few moments of rubbing that sweet spot inside him before Sam was a mess. His cock was hard and leaking precum, his face was hot and he was pretty sure he was sweating under his sweatshirt. 

“How’s it feel?” Dean’s voice brought him back from his haze. The gruffness that Sam loved was there, reminding him that this was real. It was actually fucking happening, Dean was touching him and Sam couldn’t believe it. 

“G-good!” Sam gasped out louder than he expected and doctor Smith practically purred in approval.

“Touch your cock for me.” Dean’s demanding tone had Sam quivering and left no room for debate, not that he’d neglect Dean’s orders. When Sam moved his arms he slumped forward entirely. He gave up on keeping himself steady and allowed his cheek to press to the rough paper sheet. Sam had touched his cock before, he knew what made himself feel good.

He was already on edge, whimpering when he wrapped his own hand around his cock. He blamed his hormones for how easy he got off on the simplest touches. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, jaw slack and delectable noises falling from his lips. 

Dean’s fingers continued their motions, hitting his prostate over and over. The older man wasn’t in a much better state then Sam. His own cock was hard within his pants and he was pretty sure he’d cum in his pants for the first time since he was Sam’s age. 

“Tell me how good it feels. Be a polite little boy, call me sir.” Dean growled out the order as Sam stroked his cock in a pace that matched the pumps of Dean’s fingers.

“S- so good, sir.” Sam panted out as his cock twitched in his hand. He ran his thumb over the tip before sliding it back down, making his cock nice and slick. 

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Dean withdrew his fingers, smirking at the way Sam whimpered at the loss. “My good little virgin…” Sam squeezed the base of his cock to hold himself back from release. Sam looked over his shoulder with a slight frown at how Dean had pulled back. Once he saw the man his expression shifted to one of nervous excitement. Dean had torn off the gloves along with his coat and was reaching into his back pocket. Sam watched with interest as Dean pulled a condom from his wallet. 

“You gonna let me fuck you?” Dean growled out and unzipped his pants, something inside him telling him he already knew the answer.

“Oh god-“ Sam’s hips bucked backwards as he began to slowly stroke his cock. Sam could have sworn he’d died and gone to his own personal heaven when doctor Smith pulled his own cock from the confines of his pants. It was long and thick and oh god, Sam wasn’t sure it would fit.

“As much as I love hearing that pretty voice of yours, you’re gonna have to keep it down.” Sam’s neck became sore and eventually gave into his muscles and dropped his cheek back to the hard cushioned bed. Dean made quick work with rolling on the condom and made a mental note to dispose of the evidence later. He lined the fat head of his cock to Sam’s still tight hole. At least the condoms were lubed.

He pushed the first two inches of his cock into Sam, who in turn cried out. He couldn’t believe his own mind when he started to regret this. Doctor Smith’s cock was too big, too thick. “W-wait! Just- just a sec-“

Dean’s hand snapped forward to cover the young boys mouth. His warm body hunched over Sam’s. The more of his cock he pushed in, the louder Sam yelled into his palm. The boy was quivering and his legs nearly gave out. His cock twitched uncontrollably and he ran his hand over himself again. Oh fuck, his ass hurt so bad and Sam tried to do anything to ease the pain.

“Fuck, you’re tight. My little virgin.” Dean’s hot breath was right against Sam’s neck and Sam whined. With one sharp thrust Dean buried himself to the hilt inside Sam. A choked sob left Sam’s lips, muffled by Dean’s thick hand. “Good boy. You took all of me.” Sam struggled beneath the doctor’s hold, bucking his hips forward in an attempt to make Dean slide out. It was no use, though. Dean saw it as a form of eagerness and smirked.

It was a tight squeeze and Dean had to pause for a moment to allow both of them to adjust. Sam was panting into Dean’s hand, his tight ass squeezing Dean’s cock so hard. Dean wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull out with the way Sam’s body held him in.

“Relax, baby boy. Just relax.” Dean repeated those words gently, his free hand slipping under Sam’s sweatshirt, rubbing his back. Sam’s unoccupied hand gripped the paper sheet, effectively tearing through it.

When he was able to move, Dean pulled his hips back he didn’t stop until just the tip remained. Then he slammed back in. It was a bit easier now that Sam was a little more opened up, but the squeeze was still tight. Dean wouldn’t have it any other way.

This time Dean didn’t stop his thrusting. Sam had nothing to hold onto, no leverage. His body jolted forward and rocked back with each of Dean’s thrusts.

Sam had dropped his hand from his cock, both hands in front of him in a failed attempt to keep himself still. Dean’s hips were slamming against his ass, the sound of skin on skin audible. The feel of Dean’s fat cock thrusting inside him, hitting the right spot over and over, stretching him out had him whimpering. He was confused and overwhelmed, pleasure was there, yes, but it still couldn’t outweigh the pain. He felt as if Dean was going to tear him in half. 

Sam’s body reacted on its own accord. Before Sam could stop himself, his cock twitched before he came with a broken groan. Thick globs spurted onto the side of the bed and leaked down his shaft, a few drops making it onto the floor. 

“Fuck, you just came, little boy, didn’t you?” Dean grunted and brought his hand out from under Sam’s sweatshirt. “Answer me!” Dean demanded with a snap of his hips.

Sam whimpered loudly and cried out a “yes!” into the palm of Dean’s hand. “You made a mess, didn’t you?” Dean brought his free hand down against Sam’s ass cheek, a slap resounding through the room. Sam cried out louder into Dean’s hand, tears pricking at his eyes as more of his release spilled from his cock. 

The spank Dean had landed was already turning red. A sick thrill shot through the older man's body at the thought of Sam having his mark bruised on his pretty, smooth skin.

“Fuck, Sammy.” Dean groaned, spanking his ass again, relishing in the way Sam cried in response. His other hand pressed harder against Sam’s mouth, fingertips digging into his cheek and jaw. His other moved to lock around Sam’s waist. Doctor Smith never stopped the motions of his hips. Each of his thrusts brought him closer to his finish. He’d never been so turned on in his life, it never took him this little time to reach his edge. 

An idea flashed through his head as he felt his balls tense, he was going to cum any second now. He pulled away from Sam entirely, leaving him confused and relieved. Within a matter of seconds Dean had torn off the condom and Sam found himself being forced to his knees in front of his doctor.

“ ‘m gonna cum in your pretty mouth.” Dean growled, jerking his own cock. Sam’s eyes went wide and he squirmed backwards. Dean took it as a challenge and gripped the back of Sams shaggy hair. “Act like the good little boy or I’ll spank you again.” Dean growled, remembering the way Sam had tensed and cried under each slap. Sam opened his mouth, jaw quivering with fright. He closed his eyes, even poked his tongue out. 

“Oh fuck.” That’s what did it for Dean, Sammy on his knees like an obedient little cockslut. The hand that gripped the back of Sam’s brown locks pulled the young boy’s face closer. Dean’s other worked to guide his cock into Sam’s waiting mouth. The second the wet warmth of Sam’s mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, Dean’s control slipped. 

Sam gagged when Dean thrust his cock into his mouth, the tip hitting the back of Sam’s throat. He reached for the older man, hands landing on the fronts of his thighs, nails digging into Dean’s thighs. 

With a groan, Dean came. Hot, sticky release hit the back of Sam’s throat. His throat flexed and he gagged, pushing back against Dean’s thighs. But the older man refused to back off.

“Swallow it.” Dean commanded, eyes nearly black with lust. He felt Sam’s throat tense as he gagged once again. Sam wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold his breath much longer and finally gave in, swallowing the thick, creamy mixture. The taste was salty, bitter, and warm in Sam’s mouth. Dean held Sam on his cock until he finished riding out his aftershocks. 

His hands left the back of Sam’s head and he stepped back. Dean’s seed leaked from the corner of Sam’s pretty mouth as he looked up at the doctor. He kaleidoscope hazel eyes were tearing up, drops leaking down his red cheeks. With a cough Sam fell forward a bit. His lips were parted as he sucked in a breath. His hands slapped on the cool marble ground. He tried to look up at Dean through his lashes but his shaggy hair acted as a curtain.

Dean tucked himself back into his own pants with a sly smirk. The poor boy was an absolute mess. He had his own release dripping down his shaft and his thighs, along with Dean’s on his swollen lips. His eyes were a bit red but the tears had stopped now. It was a masterpiece in Dean’s eyes. He moved quickly after taking in the sight, stuffing the used condom and the wrapper into his back pocket. He threw his coat back on and grabbed some wipes for Sam, who would need a little bit more than a coat to cover up his mess. 

Dean crouched down in front of Sam, who still sat worn out on the floor. He was careful as he wiped Sam’s lips, green eyes mesmerizing as Sam stared up at him. His mind and heart raced, his body ached. But, he couldn't stop himself from being so attracted to his doctor. Even though the man had just used his body. 

Sam allowed Dean to clean him up and help him to his feet. He tucked Sam’s cock back into his pants. When Dean zipped and buttoned his pants, Sam looked down. He was insanely relieved when he found out that he hadn’t stained his jeans. 

Dean smirked as the shy boy returned. His hands stuffed back in it his pockets and he couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes. Before Dean could speak again, a knock on the door had him distracted. 

“Doctor Smith? Mr. Winchester is wondering what’s taking so long.” It was one of the receptionists and Dean sighed.

“I guess our times up.” Sam bit his bottom lip when Dean’s voice turned to a low rumble. “Be a good boy and keep that pretty mouth shut, okay?” 

Sam swallowed thickly and nodded, unable to meet Dean’s gaze. The older man chuckled to himself and Sam frowned. “Well, it's not like anyone would believe you anyway,” Dean leaned down to Sam's eye level, thick fingers gripping his chin and forced Sam to meet his eyes. “Unless you wanna admit to how you asked for it, how you came all over yourself.”

Dean dropped Sam’s jaw before his hand landed on the young boys shoulder. The doctor guided him out the door and back to the waiting room. “I’ll see you soon for your next check up.” Dean winked at Sam, who felt humiliation crawl up his spine.

“Took you long enough.” Sam’s father muttered as they walked out to the car. When Sam crawled into the passengers seat he winced when his ass hit the seat. The shock of pain that shot through his body had him concealing a whimper. He fought back tears as he shifted in his seat, knowing his ass was definitely bruised.

His fingers crept to hover over his lips where he could still taste doctor Smith. His brain still couldn’t process what happened. He’d only been able to come to one conclusion; maybe some fantasies were better left unfulfilled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is in a bad state of mind due to his encounter with Doctor Smith. He’s overwhelmed by his emotions and feels lost. Consequently, there’s only one person who understands what Sam went through. Someone who’s a master of manipulation and taking advantage of Sam's mind and body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: if you found the first part too difficult/disturbing please PLEASE be careful and don’t push yourself to read the second part. In this part there is talk of parental abuse(nothing sexual), emotionally hurt Sam, extreme manipulation, non-consensual drug use, non-con sex, and rape-trauma aftermath

Was Sam the only one? Were there others? Was it a moment of opportunity or did Doctor Smith plan it?

Sam couldn’t find an answer to any of the questions racing around his brain as he stared down at his paper. He tapped his pencil against his desk and shifted in his seat, unable to get comfortable.

It had been over a week since his appointment and his ass was somehow still sore. Every sting of pain that shot through him brought him right back to that office. The way he’d been so infatuated with the man who was supposed to take care of him. Then, as if a switch flipped, he changed. Sam hated that memory, he wanted it out of his head.

But he hated himself more. He hated that he’d just let it happen. He hated how he still thought about it, how he could feel the doctor’s hands on him.

He hated how hard his cock got when he thought about Doctor Smith at night.

He had to be sick in the head, it was the only explanation. He’d been humiliated, degraded, used by the older man. Even thinking about it now made Sam’s cheeks flush in shame and arousal.

He was so weak against the doctor’s touch, he’d just given in. He hadn’t really put up a fight. Maybe because he didn’t want to. His mind was going back and forth, stirring up an internal battle. Had he been overpowered or had he deep down wanted it so rough and uncaring?

No matter what, Sam couldn’t get those green eyes out of his head. The memory of the way they looked into his made his legs feel weak. Even when Sam has been forced down onto his knees, he’d looked up into the man’s eyes. They’d been nearly black with lust and Sam cursed the way he still thought about that. He pressed the heel of his hand to the growing lump in his jeans and shifted once more.

Sam wasn’t stupid, he knew something had to be wrong with him. There had to be a deeper reason for his feelings. There had to be a reason that he actually missed the way the doctor’s hands held him.

Sam thought about how if he had seen a professional they would have told them it was a form of Stockholm syndrome. Identifying with his abuser, except change ‘identifying’ to ‘having a massive crush he couldn’t get rid of’. Sam closed his eyes tight and pushed that idea away.

Dean was more than just a crush, though. He was the whole reason Sam realized he wasn’t just into girls. That had to count for something, didn’t it? Sam shook his head as if it would remove those thoughts. He tried once again to focus on the geometry worksheet in front of him. 

It was no use. He finally relented, giving up on trying to focus. His teacher liked him- maybe if he said he was sick or something she’d give him an extra day.

Hell, it wouldn’t be a lie. Sam was convinced that he was in fact very sick.

Even when Doctor Smith revealed his dark side, Sam couldn’t control the way his dreams were plagued. He remembered the way his lips stretched around the doctor’s fat cock, the way he nearly choked as tears spilled. The way that Dean had bent him over and nearly split him open. 

“Good boy. You took all of me.” 

Sam scolded himself for the way his heart still fluttered at Dean’s words of approval. Doctor Smith had always been so kind to him. Each time Sam saw him before he gave Sam the attention that he craved. The doctor asked Sam about school, how his games went, talked to him rather than yelled. Sam now began to wonder if it was a ploy or if Dean really did care about him like he had thought. Like he always hoped.

The sound of the bell ringing had him sighing in relief. He only had a few classes left, maybe he could hide in the bathroom for the rest of the day.

“Mr. Winchester?” The sound of his teacher’s voice had him stopping. He’d packed up quickly and was attempting to rush out of class. “Could you hang back for a moment?”

“Sure, Mrs. Harvelle” Sam nearly blushed in embarrassment, stuffing his hands into his hoodie front pockets. He just hoped it hung low enough to cover himself in his jeans.

“I noticed you were a bit distracted today.” Mrs. Harvelle was one of those teachers who genuinely cared. It was usually a thing that Sam admired, but now he wished she would leave him alone. “Actually, you have been for the past few days.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” Sam shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. “I just haven’t been feeling well, that’s all.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. I know the flu has been going around,” She leaned back in her desk chair. “Maybe you should see a doctor.” 

The irony was unreal and Sam nearly rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay.” He said quickly. “Bye, Mrs. Harvelle.” Sam gave a polite smile before speeding out the door.

Sam was thankful when he reached one of the bathrooms and found it was empty. He picked the handicapped stall due to the size, if he was going to hide he didn’t want to feel claustrophobic. He needed all the space he could to be able to breathe. 

Sam locked the stall door and flung off his backpack. It hit the wall with a thump before falling on the floor. His palms slammed down on the counter of the sink and he stared into the mirror. He wanted to punch the glass, to shatter the reflection staring back at him. He was so fucking confused. He felt absolutely broken. He just wanted to cry. How had he let one man have that much power over him? 

He licked his dry lips and found himself wanting to puke at how much he missed the taste of Dean.

“God damnit!” Sam dropped his head and choked out a broken sob. 

What the hell was wrong with him? Why the fuck did he have to feel so conflicted? He needed to get over it, get Dean out of his mind. Or he at least needed to make up his mind about how he felt. Why did he still have to have feelings for the older man?

“Hello?” A meek voice called and Sam froze. “Sam? Is that you?” Sam clenched his eyes shut and refused to acknowledge that he’d been caught. “It’s Adam Milligan.”

Sam knew who it was, Adam was in his geometry class. The kid was smart and quiet and a year or two younger than Sam. “What?” Sam’s voice came out harsher than he meant.

“Are you okay?” The genuine concern in his voice had Sam feeling an odd sense of ease. It had been a while since anyone had asked him.

“Yeah.” Sam wiped at his eyes and sniffled, clearing his throat. “Just don’t feel well.” 

“Oh… well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Adam’s voice trailed off as the warning bell rang. “If you ever need someone to talk to-“

“Head to class, kid.” Sam called back, wiping at his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. They didn’t know each other well and he just wanted to be alone. At least Adam wasn’t the type to tell anyone what happened.

Sam sighed in relief when he heard unsure footsteps leave. The door to the bathroom closed and Sam nearly collapsed. He turned and pressed his back to the edge of the counter, burying his face in his hands. Maybe Adam was right, he needed someone to talk to. The problem was that there was only one person who could even begin to understand what Sam was going through.

After a few moments of contemplation, Sam texted his father saying he was ill. Reluctantly, his father picked him up twenty minutes later, saying that if he found out Sam was faking he’d be grounded. Not that it mattered, Sam wasn’t much for going out with friends recently. He’d become withdrawn, staying in his room at home and sluggishly forcing himself to go through school. 

“Maybe I should put in a call to Doctor Smith. I don't want you being sick before the game. You practically carry that team…” Sam ignored his father's grumbling and opted to look out the window. “Unless you’re faking to get out of it…”

“It’ll pass before this weekend.” Sam mumbled in response. He couldn’t go back to the damn office. At least not before he figured out things for himself. But, he couldn’t admit to lying to his dad either. The consequences wouldn’t be much better. 

“Can’t take that risk, son. He’s a buddy of a friend of mine, I’m sure if I asked he’d come by the house.” Sam’s eyes went wide and he looks over to his father. John simply scoffed. “You don’t think I’m letting you get out of a game, do you? You know how important it is.” His father was dedicated to Sam’s basketball ‘career’ as John put it. 

He was probably more invested than Sam, hell his dad was the reason he joined the team in the first place. Sam was finally able to somewhat gain John’s approval through sports, yet his father was still hard on him. Sam knew he couldn’t exactly argue against his father’s decisions. He’d nearly gotten a black eye the last time he challenged his father.

So Sam sat quietly, trying to will his heart rate to slow down. He prayed his father was bluffing just to mess with him. But if not...he’d have to see Dean again. Sam could only hope that he could bare through it. 

The second the car stopped, Sam was out and rushing to his room. His bed was his safe space, his last haven that he had all to himself and his thoughts. He just wanted to curl up under his blankets and disappear, but at the same time he felt excitement bubble in his chest. He hadn’t gotten Dean off his mind and Sam hoped seeing him in person would result in some answers. Was Dean still worthy of his feelings or would he finally be able to put it behind him?

It’s not like he could actually say anything to Dean and Dean certainly couldn’t do anything to him. Maybe the metaphorical crossroads could work in Sam’s favor.

Sam lost track of how long he stayed silently curled up in his bed, maybe it was a few hours. He hadn’t counted, there was no point. The inevitable was coming. As if on cue Sam heard the boom of his father's voice calling his name.

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled with a shudder. He sat up and threw his blankets off. He pulled himself to his feet and headed out of his room. In his descent down the hall Sam attempted to come up with a plan. He’d go along with what his father wanted and when he inevitably left the room, Sam would tell Dean that they needed to talk.

Then Sam saw him. He stood tall in regular clothes, jeans and a grey t-shirt. His arms were thick and his muscles bulged when he crossed them over his chest. He was smiling as John bragged about Sam’s basketball trophies, his gorgeous lips parted to reveal his pearly white teeth. Then he turned to look at Sam, those emerald orbs landing on his face.

Sam lost his train of thought entirely.

“Hey, kid. I heard you weren’t feeling well.” The subtle concern in his voice had Sam’s heart fluttering. Perhaps he was too optimistic.

“Yeah,” John scoffed, his ficsade of a caring father slipping despite the company. “Had to pick him up from school.” John’s heavy hand landed on Sam’s shoulder and the boy tensed. “Wouldn’t wanna find out he’s faking or that’s he gonna miss his game.”

Sam’s eyes fell to look at the ground and Dean’s smile faulted. Sam looked nervous around his father, his shoulders slumped and his head bowed as if he was trying to shrink. Dean decided in that moment he wasn’t a fan of John.

“This should be quick.” The doctor did what could have easily been done by someone with basic knowledge. Sam suspected his father dragged Dean all the way to their home just to embarrass Sam. Not to mention making him feel guilty for wasting Dean’s time.

Everytime Dean touched him or even looked at him, Sam refused to acknowledge it. He couldn’t react to Dean in front of his father. He just went along with it and tried to pretend everything was normal. Sam waited for his father’s impending fit when Dean pulled the thermometer out of Sam's mouth. 

Doctor Smith cleared his throat and looked to John, who stood just a few feet away with his arms crossed and an unamused expression. “Could I get a glass of water, please?” Dean flashed an award winning smile and John was under his spell, nodding and heading into their kitchen.

Dean leaned in close, the chair he was sitting in just across from Sam’s. Their knees had been practically touching the whole time. “Are you going to tell your dad you're faking or am I?” Dean kept his voice low. “Why fake sick anyway? What’s the point?”

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and prayed for any ounce of bravery. “You.” Was all he manage, knowing if he said anything more he’d probably stutter. 

“Is that so?” Dean sighed and Sam felt his minty breath hit his face. Dean bit his lip as if he was in thought. “Did you miss me too much?” The smug smirk Dean wore made Sam’s jaw clench. On one hand, he wanted to slap the sly look from the older man’s face. But, on the other Sam wanted to feel those plump lips against his. They were so close… so pretty. Dean’s smirk turned to a mischievous grin when he realized Sam was focused on his lips. 

“I-,” Sam’s words caught in his throat as his father returned, handing the glass of ice cool water over to Dean.

“What’s your professional opinion? Did we waste our time for nothing?” John’s tone was somewhere between annoyed and smug, waiting for his suspicions to be confirmed so he could tear Sam a new one. He thought Sam should know by now not to lie to him.

Dean glanced at Sam for a brief moment, taking in the way his throat flexed when he swallowed nervously. “Actually,” Dean looked up to John. “He’s got a bit of a fever, probably something going around the school.” Dean stood from his chair and Sam felt as if a weight had left his shoulders. “I recommend plenty of rest and maybe soup.” Dean cracked a smile and John nodded.

“Well, thanks for coming down. How much do I owe you?” John reached to shake the doctor’s hand. 

Dean chuckled lightly, hiding his disgust of touching that man. He could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, thank you again. Sam, show Mr. Smith to the door.” With that, John turned his back and headed to the kitchen. With a nervous nod, Sam stood. 

His head was bowed and Sam swiftly walked to the door and opened it for Dean. “What were you going to say? How is you faking sick my fault?” Dean crossed his arms and looked down at Sam. With furrowed brows Sam looked up at the doctor, who wore an expression of expectancy. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Sam wasn’t going to thank Dean for lying for him. Sam inhaled through his nose, feeling a wave of confidence crash through him. “What you did to me-“

“What you begged for.” Dean interrupted. Sam scowled as the doctor’s lips parted in a grin on his stupidly perfect face. Sam finally remembered why he needed to talk to Dean alone.

“We need to talk about it. Please? I can't focus, I can't sleep, I-“

“Okay, okay.” Dean cut the boy off once again. Both of his hands landed on Sam’s shoulders for a brief moment. “You wanna talk? Fine.” Sam watched in confusion as the doctor plucked a pen off of the table beside the door. “Only because you said please.”

Sam flinched when Dean’s other hand snapped to grab his wrist. His sleeve was swiftly rolled up and Dean’s tongue poked out passed his lips. He pressed the tip of the pen to Sam’s skin, ink staining his skin as Dean wrote. “There.”

Dean’s eyes intensely gazed into Sam’s as he dropped the pen back onto the table. Sam swallowed thickly. Why did the older man's eyes have to be so distracting? Before he could speak, Dean was out the door. Sam glanced down at his wrist. He found he now had Dean’s phone number inked onto his wrist, along with the words ‘call me’ and a crudely drawn winking face. Was it meant to be mocking or flirtatious? Sam hoped for the latter.

The fridge slammed shut and Sam heard his father groan. Sam quickly rolled his sleeve down when his father walked in. “You heard the doc, go get in bed. I've got to work tonight, probably won’t be back until late.” John glanced at his watch. “I’m gonna head out, there’s food in the fridge.” John grunted and grabbed his coat off the rack before heading out the door, leaving Sam all alone.

Sam sighed and headed to his room. He knew by now his father wasn’t working, he was going out to drink. John often went bar hopping and had at least enough decency to not tell Sam he was going out to get shit-faced drunk and laid. He’d rather have his father drinking somewhere else instead of their home. It was a minor miracle that they’d run out of beer.

Sam laid in his bed, simply staring at the ceiling for a long while. After building up the confrontation in his head it almost seemed anticlimactic. Dean had been civil for the most part, aside from a few backhanded comments that made Sam blush. Sam didn’t dare say a word in front of his father. 

Speaking of which, Sam still couldn’t figure out why Dean had lied for him. If he was as bad as a part of Sam thought, he would have enjoyed watching Sam get scolded or worse. But, the side that seemed to keep winning convinced Sam that Dean was good, that he cared. That was the man he saw today, the man he felt for so deeply.

‘He’s a good man with a weakness,’ Sam had told himself when he left the office that day. Dean hadn’t meant to hurt him, he just lost control. Dean was right, he had asked for it. Hell, he came because of Dean’s cock. That meant he wanted it, right?

Sam wasn’t hungry, he knew he couldn’t stomach food. His father had been gone for a while now, the sun had completely set. He looked to the number on his skin and took a deep breath.

He snatched his phone from the charger and began to dial the number. Then he pressed the backspace button until it was blank. Sam came to the conclusion that he probably couldn’t handle a phone call. This time he went to his messaging app and typed in Dean’s number there. Sam didn’t know what to say. He typed up about a dozen different messages, deleting each and every one. He finally settled on one and hit send.

‘Are you busy?’

Sam turned off his phone with a sigh and dropped it on his bed next to him. He threw an arm over his eyes and took a deep breath. His phone dinged in less than a minute.

‘I was just thinking about you.’

Damn it, now Sam was blushing. His fingers twitched around his phone as he stared at the little message bubble. Was there any truth to it?  
Sam wanted to ask but he didn’t want to sound desperate. Before he could, another message appeared.

‘I saw your father leave, is he still gone?’

Sam furrowed his brows at Dean’s question but still answered.

‘Yeah’

‘You said you needed to talk, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah’

‘Fine, but I’m not much of a texting person. I’ll be over in a few.’

Holy shit. Sam was panicking now, he hadn’t expected that response. He hadn’t planned for this to happen. He stood from his bed and paced back and forth. He hadn’t even replied to the man. 

Oh god- this was a bad idea. He needed to tell Doctor Smith no. He needed to tell him to not come back to his fucking house. But, deep down a part of him wanted to. He wanted to know what Dean had to say.

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking at the reflection on his phone screen. His eyes weren’t puffy anymore and he gave a weak smile to his reflection. He dropped his phone next to him and sighed. He wanted to look presentable for the older man. He looked his body up and down. He hadn’t changed since he left school, still in his favorite sweatshirt and jeans. He’d only taken off his shoes. 

His leg anxiously bounced as he sat on the edge of his bed. He couldn’t resist checking his phone. There were no new notifications. The only one was Dean’s last message, sent twenty minutes ago. 

There was a loud knock on his door and Sam swore his heart skipped a beat. With shaky legs he stood from his bed. His legs worked on their own accord, bringing him all the way to the front door.

With a deep breath Sam reached for the handle and turned it. He pulled the door open and was not surprised to see Dean standing there. But, that didn’t stop his heart from fluttering when he saw the older man. He was in the same outfit as before, his hands tucked in the back pockets of his jeans. 

“You gonna invite me in or…?” Dean raised his brow and a small chuckle passed his lips. Sam had thought about this before, Dean showing up at his door. 

In his dreams, Dean would tell Sam he wanted to take him away from his sucky life. Sam would be flattered and accept his offer with a smile. His hand would tuck into Dean’s and they’d walk off into the sunset. They’d live happily ever after. Of course it was unrealistic, but a boy could hope.

But, that fantasy, along with all the others, disappeared after that day. His dreams had turned darker. Instead of Dean holding Sam’s hand the older man would pin them down. Dean would use his strength to hold Sam still and instead of kissing his lips gently, Dean would bite down on Sam’s neck. He’d be covered in Dean’s marks for everyone to see who he belonged to.

“You’ve gotta stop doing’ that.” Dean shook his head with a smile.

“Doing what?” Sam looked up to Dean with flushed cheeks. He stepped to the side and allowed Dean to walk into his home.

“You gotta stop zoning out on me. I know something’s going on in that pretty head of yours.” Dean gave him a smile. It reminded him of when things seemed simpler. “You can talk to me.” But it wasn’t so easy anymore.

“Can I? Or are you just saying that?” Sam didn’t know what came over him. Dean didn’t seem so intimidating now, he was just a man after all. Sam could finally speak his mind.

“I came here, didn’t I?” At that Sam nodded in reluctant agreement. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he thought. “Where’s your dad?”

“Probably a bar.” Sam scoffed, walking back towards his room. The living room, the kitchen, and the dining room all had windows. Sam needed to know the neighbors wouldn’t be able to report back that they’d seen someone- a grown man- in the Winchester house at night with Sam.

Dean followed Sam back to his room. He picked up on the way the walls were empty. Sam’s room was absolutely plain. No posters, no pictures with friends. All his trophies were displayed in the living room by his father, leaving his personal shelves empty. His bed sat in the corner, the headboard and left side against the tan wall. Across from that was his desk and a chair. There was a laundry basket and a full bookshelf. 

“Don’t give me that look.” Sam sighed when he saw Dean's eyes wandering his room. It was the same expression his friends wore when they saw his practically bare room. It looked hardly lived in and carried no ounce of Sam’s identity. That’s the way he wanted it, but no one else understood.

“What look?” Dean inquired, running the tips of his fingers over the cover of a book on Sam’s desk. He cracked a small smile when he saw the title. “Romeo and Juliet, a classic.”

“It’s for school.” Sam stomped over and snatched the book away from Dean’s touch. He threw it against the far wall and Dean’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“Hey, calm down.” Dean sounded concerned and Sam wanted to slap his hand away when it touched his shoulder. 

“Don’t act like you fucking care how I feel!” Sam didn’t know what had happened- something inside him just snapped. He’d spent so many days bottling up and suppressing his feelings and now they were finally bubbling out. “I know you don’t, okay? I know that! Don’t fucking-“

“Sam,” Dean’s hands were on him again and Sam felt tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He pushed at Dean’s chest and tried to wiggle away from his grasp. 

“Shh, calm down.” Dean’s voice was oddly soothing as Sam found himself being guided to lean against his wall. “Don’t have a panic attack on me, kid.” Dean gave a weak smile as Sam took shuddering breaths. 

His lanky legs seemed to give out beneath him. If it wasn’t for Dean he knew he would have collapsed. The older man muttered something Sam didn’t hear as he gently helped him to sit down on the ground. 

Sam pressed his back against his wall and pulled his knees to his chest, his form portraying that of a scared child. He was just a boy frightened of his own feelings and his own mind after all.

Dean knelt in front of him and cupped his cheeks, tilting his head so he could meet Sam’s hazel eyes. He’d always recognized the beauty of Sam’s eyes. The mixture of green and gold created a distracting sunflower effect that always made Dean smile. 

“I shouldn’t have asked you here…” a choked sound left Sam’s pink lips, tears freely spilling now. Seeing him like that had Dean finally feeling the severity of the damage he’d caused. “Somethings wrong with me! I should fucking hate you! But- but I can’t…”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Sam.” He wanted to feel guilty, he should have. But he couldn’t. There was no way he want to take back what he’d done. His eyes had been set on Sam for a long while now. He’d played the long game, waiting until Sam was ripe for the taking. If it took him playing therapist for a few minutes to make Sam his, than so be it.

He knew Sam had depth, he wasn’t the typical teenage boy. His personally was one of the things that attracted Dean, along with his cute face, that sweet dimpled smile and his growing body of course.

Sam needed someone to care for him, to comfort him. Dean was content doing that for his boy for just a little while. He wouldn’t let Sam slip from his grasp. He just couldn’t, not after all this time. 

“Will you be okay if I leave for a moment?” A frown crested Sam’s pretty lips that had Dean stroking his cheek. “I just want to get you something to drink. You need water.” Sam nodded in response and Doctor Smith stood with a slight smile. 

Sam just needed to calm down, that was all. Dean would help him feel at ease, he’d get Sam away from his own mind. Dean assured himself he was just going to help Sam relax as he mixed in something he’d brought into the glass of water meant for the boy. He wished he believed himself.

“Doctor Smith?” Sam’s broken voice alerted Dean when he entered, closing and locking the door behind him. He knelt back down in front of Sam and handed him the glass. 

“Dean,” his thumb wiped a tear from Sam’s cheek. “I’ve known you for years, you can call me Dean. Now drink up, you need to stay hydrated. I would know, I’m a Doctor.”

Sam sipped at the water and the doctor hid his smile. “Dean,” Sam found that his name sounded strange on his tongue. But he acknowledged that it was Dean’s form of a peace offering, which he was grateful for. “Can I ask you something.”

“Sure, kiddo.”

“Am-“ Sam sniffled, lifting his free hand to wipe his cheeks with his sleeve. “Am I the only one?”

Dean licked his lips as he stared into Sam’s wide eyes. “Yes, sweetheart.” Sam sighed in what could be described as relief. His mouth was still dry and Dean watched as Sam’s throat flexed each time he swallowed down the cool liquid. “I promise.” Sam observed Dean for a moment and gave a weak nod when he found no ounce of dishonesty in Dean’s expression. The thought of there being someone else hurt.

“Just breathe, Sammy.” Dean took the empty glass from Sam’s hand and set it aside. The older man replaced it with his hand, taking Sam’s in his own. He lifted it to his lips, pressing them gently to the back of Sam’s palm. Dean made sure to make it subtle when he glanced at his watch. 

Sam stayed quiet for a long moment, focused more on steadying his breathing. His heart rate seemed to return back to normal as he stared into Dean’s eyes. The emerald orbs carried an aura that had Sam feeling at ease.

Dean sat with Sam for a long while on the floor, not speaking much. He held Sam’s hand, stroked his cheek, told him not to worry. Dean guided Sam’s breathing, telling him to inhale and exhale. 

“Here, c’mon.” Dean spoke after a few more minutes. He tucked his arms around Sam, one arm around his narrow waist. He brought Sam’s arm over his shoulder. “Let’s lay you down.” He lifted Sam from the ground. He wasn’t too heavy, his long limbs were just unbalanced under the sway of his body. 

Sam’s eyes began to blurred over, all the crying must have given him a headache. He felt his back hit his soft mattress and a pillow tucked under his head. He blinked until his eyes were somewhat clear and he found Doctor Smith looking down at him.

He sniffled a bit and wiped his face with his sleeve. Sam’s arm felt heavy when he lifted it, ultimately allowing it to drop above his head. He didn't bother to try and lift it again. Sam looked with puffy eyes to Dean, who offered him a sympathetic smile, sitting down next to him with his legs off the side of the bed. 

“Why me?” Sam’s voice was weakened now, not confident like it had been when he first challenged Dean. He’d been broken down to such a point of mental and physical exhaustion. Sam knew it was bound to come sooner than later. He wasn’t sleeping or eating, spending his days and nights lost in the battle against his own mind. If only he’d known what Dean had done to influence his submission.

“Because, Sam. You’re special to me.” Dean’s voice was thick like honey and Sam gave a weak smile at his words.

“I am?” Dean heard the shaky, unsure tone in Sam’s voice. 

“Yes, you are, sweetheart.” Dean assured, watching with a smirk as Sam’s eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment. “More than you’ll ever understand.” 

“Then-“ Sam’s mouth still feels so dry, his tongue is like sandpaper. His eyelids are heavy and he can barely recognize that Dean is standing from the bed. “Why did you hurt me?”

“Sammy,” Dean nearly growled at Sam’s question. “We’ve been over this. I gave you what you begged me for. I saw that look in your eyes.” Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Dean reminded himself that there was no use in arguing with the inebriated boy.

He knew his control had slipped that day in the office, that he’d given into his deepest desires without concern for the consequences. He’d gotten rougher than he intended. He was so lost in lust he couldn’t help himself. He told himself he’d be gentle with his boy this time.

“I’m gonna make it up to you. I promise, sweetheart.” Sam should have been worried when he heard the clink of a belt but he was just so tired. “You’re so pretty like this…” Dean groaned as he palmed the quickly growing bulge in his pants. He truly had put up a fight with his body, knowing Sam needed comfort, but this was just too good to pass up. 

“De-“ Sam’s voice failed him and Dean found himself liking the nickname. It sounded adorably childish coming from Sam’s pink lips.

“Shhh,” Dean had shucked his jeans now, down to just his boxers and t-shirt. With a smile he crawled into Sam’s bed, sitting next to him. He’d dreamt about this before, Sam in bed waiting for him. In his wettest dreams, Sam’s slender hips would be bucking up from the mattress as he stroked his cock, begging for Dean to fuck him hard.

Okay, so Dean would have to settle for Sam like this. He could still make it work. The older man hadn’t wanted it this way but Sam had gotten himself so worked up. The second he saw the fat teardrops falling down his cheeks Dean knew Sam wouldn’t give him what he wanted easily. And the way he’d snapped at Dean? He couldn’t believe Sam had the audacity to yell at him. Dean was glad he’d brought the “backup plan”. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect, little boy.” Dean’s hands felt like weights against Sam as he worked his pants down his thighs. “There we go…” Dean muttered more to himself. He glanced up at Sam and found that his head lolled to the side and his eyes completely shut. “Hey, don’t go to sleep on me. I want those pretty eyes open.” 

Dean’s fingers clamped onto Sam’s chin and tilted his head to face the ceiling. “ ‘m tired.” Sam slurred out. It took him a few seconds to even identify the owner of the hands on him.

“I know, I know. If you hadn’t gotten so upset then I wouldn’t have had to do it this way. If you-“ Dean bit his tongue, he didn’t want to get distracted by blaming Sam. Of course it was the boy’s fault, Dean had come to that conclusion in his head a while ago. All the cute little smiles, the prolonged looks, blushing cheeks. He was asking for Dean’s devotion. Sam had brought out a side of Dean that he never knew existed. He couldn’t go back now. Neither of them could.

“You care about me, don’t you Sam?” Dean used a loving tone, leaning over Sam and looking into his eyes. “Don’t you wanna make me happy?” Sam’s brows twitched a bit as if they were going to furrow but lacked the strength. He blinked slowly and looked up into those green eyes. He felt a rush of emotions cascade over him. Dean’s eyes were so pretty. God, he loved looking at them. Even more than that, he realized he loved-

Sam lost his train of thought almost immediately when Dean’s tongue poked out passed his plump lips. The Doctor was so, so distracting. Sam couldn’t form coherent words. All he could manage was a little nod. He felt a slight pressure against his lips and it took him a moment to realize that Dean was kissing him. Oh god, Dean was kissing him. It’s all he ever wanted and he couldn't even muster the strength to kiss him back. It was like a cruel joke, he’d wanted to feel them for so damn long and now he hardly could. 

A sad whimper escaped his lips that Dean misread as a sign of resistance. Sam’s eyes began to water and Dean frowned, pulling away. A little spark of anger ran through him. “Don’t cry, Sammy.” Sam’s head turned to the side again and he choked on his words. Nevertheless, Dean licked his lips, eyeing Sam’s body. “Doctor’s gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good. Just calm down, you’re gonna calm down for me.”

Dean's voice was low, the sound hit Sam’s ears and his whole body felt heavy. Dean’s voice was just so… calming. His body felt so relaxed, even as his pants were being stripped from him completely. Sam’s room was always on the colder side, that’s how his father liked the house. But, even as the chilly air hit his lanky legs he couldn’t feel the goosebumps rising.

Sam was vaguely aware in the very back of his mind that something was wrong. Even if he’d had a panic attack his body wouldn’t have reacted that way- he knew from experience. He felt a warmth dip into his boxers and thick fingers wrap around his cock. Even soft Sam was larger than Dean had thought. He’d gotten a glimpse at the office and wondered what Sam would look like in a more… natural state.

His cock fell limp against his stomach and Sam winced. His boxers were pulled down completely by Dean, who’d begun to get unintentionally rougher with the boy. 

“I know it was a bit much last time,” Dean trailed off, lifting his jeans from the floor and reaching into the back pocket. “I brought something to help.” If Sam wasn’t focused on the ceiling, which seemed to be spinning about him, he would have seen Dean procure a small bottle of lube. Dean was a very prepared man after all.

“What are you doing?” Sam struggled as he lifted his head just a tad in an attempt to see what Dean was doing. 

“Just one more thing.” Dean dropped the bottle down beside him and leaned over Sam once more. He pulled Sam’s sweatshirt along with his shirt from his body. He was entirely naked for Dean, laid out like a treat. Dean swiftly pulled off his own, letting it fall to the floor. “Perfect.”

“Dean?” Sam whimpered when he felt something thick and cold being drizzled onto his hole. He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. “What- what’s that?”

“Look who’s talking now.” Dean sounded almost amused. He drizzled his cock and began to stroke his hardness with a smirk. “It’s lube, baby boy.”

“Are you gonna-“ his voice cup off with a yelp when he felt something prodding at his hole. Dean’s fingers slipped in easy, pulling a groan from deep in the older man’s chest. “W-wait, please.”

He sounded just like he had that day in the office, a little drowsier, but it was still delectable. Dean would never admit it but the way Sam cried into his meaty palm was an unexpected aphrodisiac. It would be a lie if he said he hadn’t got off on the young boy’s scared whimpers. Dean needed more of them.

“We’ve been through this, Sam. I’m gonna take care of you, you’re too stressed… I’m gonna make you feel good.” Dean hummed as he found Sam’s prostate. He’d memorize right where the boy’s sweet spot was for when they were together again. Sam’s thighs twitched and he let out a whine. “Just relax for me.”

Dean’s words cascade over him and Sam lets out a light breath. Dean can see him physically relaxing and he smiles. “Tell me what you’re thinking about, Sam. Have you thought about me since that day?”

“Yes.” Sam chokes out when Dean begins to thrust his thick fingers into his sensitive hole. He knows he’s being stretched, prepped for what’s to come. The thought sends his mind spinning back to that office. Sam recalled the way Dean had touched him, his voice thick like sweet caramel when he asked Sam to bend over for him. 

The older man smiled when noticed Sam’s cock twitch in attention. “Really? What do you think about? I want nothing but honesty.” Dean knew Sam was in a suggestible state of mind. All it took was firmness in his voice and Sam was compliant.

“Your hands…” Sam groans when Dean’s free hand moves to wrap around Sam’s cock. 

“Oh yeah? I bet you dream about me, don’t you?” Dean licked his lips as Sam’s cock slowly began to harden. Sam took a breath and allowed his eyes to drift closed, focusing on the feel of Dean hands. “Come on, you’re not that tired.” What he didn’t vocalize was the thought, ‘I didn’t give you that much.’ He knew dizziness was definitely a side effect, but this really wouldn’t be fun if Sam was entirely asleep. 

Sam’s eyes open when he hears Dean hum in thought. The way Doctor Smith looked at him with more curiosity than lust in that moment had Sam wondering. But, that thought quickly disappeared when he felt Dean’s fingers slip from his body. He whined at the loss, he couldn’t help himself. He’d been so relaxed, just allowing himself to enjoy feel.

Dean’s fingers weren’t all that bad, even in the office they’d been more pleasurable than painful.   
Who was he kidding, they felt so good. Stroking that sweet spot inside of him with such accuracy. Sam had tried to use his fingers on himself after that day, but his own were nothing compared to the way Dean touched him.

That memory rushing through his mind had him feeling a mixture of arousal and dread. He felt as if he was back on that cushioned table, paper ripping beneath him in the unreasonably cold room. A few details have changed but the situations rhymed.

The previously mentioned dread set in when Sam felt something thicker pressing at his slicked up entrance. Sam knew it was coming the second Dean had removed his fingers. Dean’s fingers were nothing compared to his insanely long and thick cock. 

A faint muttering of a “no” passed Sam’s lips, but just as before, it was no use. Dean was gone, lost in his own mind- in the pleasure coursing through his body. Sam wished he had been surprised but he wasn’t. He knew Dean would take it further than what Sam wanted without thinking about it.

In his mind, Sam was pushing Dean away, begging him to just stop. He’d tell Dean he wasn’t ready to feel that stretch of pain again. He looked up to Dean only to see his eyes focused on where he was pushing his bare cock into Sam. Sam felt as if he should scolding himself- he should have known better. But reality had gotten in the way. Sam simply laid pliant infront of Dean, like a rag doll that could be moved the way Dean wanted.

Sam was smart, he was confident in the abilities of his mind. He was drifting in and out of awareness. He could feel Dean’s cock pushing into him further and further, even with the lube it was a tight fit that had Dean groaning above him. With a whimper Sam rolled his head to the side, he couldn’t look at Dean. He couldn’t stop the way his body reacted when he saw that gorgeous face. He wanted at least a bit more dignity than he’d had before. 

Sam’s eyes lazily looked around, trying to focus on something- anything other than the feeling of being split open on Dean’s large cock. Tears blurred his vision and his mouth didn’t seem to work in tandem with his mind. If it had he’d be screaming, begging the man to get off. He knew something wasn’t right.

Then Sam’s eyes landed on something that made his heart drop in his chest. The glass. His brain worked significantly better than his body currently was, he’d learned how to function even through pain. The only time Dean was alone without him was to fill up that damn glass of water.

His eyes went wide, or as wide as they could. “Did,” everything was starting to make sense now…his limp muscles, dizziness, dry mouth, blurred vision- “did you roofie me?”

At that Dean chuckled. Sam must have been a lot more confident with his words in his mind because they came out choked, but Dean got the gist. He licked his lips in contemplation. He looked down at where only the first few inches were buried inside Sam with a smile. 

“You’ve been watching too much tv.” Dean grunted out, his heavy hands landing to hold Sam’s narrow waist. “Just calm down.” 

A garbled yell left Sam’s lips when Dean thrust in, burying himself to the hilt. Sam gasped before exhaling in a stutter. “Oh- oh god.” Sam’s chest heaved as tears dipped down his pink cheeks. His senses seemed to work overtime below his waist. He could feel his hole being stretched around Dean’s heavy cock. He could fucking feel Dean’s cock throbbing inside of him. 

“Not god, Sam.” Dean pulled out with a smirk until just the head was inside Sam and then shoved back in. He felt Sam choke out a gasp at the thrust, and did it again. “Fuck, Sammy, you feel so good. Like you were made for me.”

“You,” Sam’s lip quivered as the realization set it. “Did.” Was all he could manage, his body working against his own mind as he failed to scream. 

“I’ve got a little bit more class than roofies, c’mon give me some credit.” Sam feels shame swell up in his chest as Dean practically laughs in his face. “I am a Doctor after all, easy access to the best stuff on the market, baby.” Betrayal and hurt took over Sam as he exhaled a shuddering sob. 

Dean’s thick hand moved to grasp Sam beneath his knee. He used his strength along with Sam’s surprising flexibility to get his leg over Dean’s shoulder. The older man’s lust blown eyes focused on the way Sam took his cock with a bit more ease. He could slide in and out without the boy fighting against him like before.

Sam’s whole body quivered when the cock inside of him rubbed at his prostate. Dean couldn’t stop his reaction, bringing his heavy palm down to smack Sam’s elevated thigh. The scared whimper that left the young boy’s lips had Dean’s cock twitching in attention inside him. He felt a deep pleasure course through him as more tears spilled from Sam’s tightly clenched eyes. Dean once again found that darkness inside him taking over.

Dean’s lip twitched in a snarl. “Keep your damn eyes open.” His growling tone paired with another harsh slap had Sam gasping out and shuddering. “Fucking look at me.” Dean jolted forward, hovering his face above Sam’s. 

Sam clenched around his cock and Dean’s rough, sharp trusts never stopped. Sam was sure he’d be broken in two. Dean had thrown Sam’s leg from his shoulder, leaving it to pathetically bounce against the mattress before falling limp. His rough fingers dug into either of Sam’s cheeks, cupping his chin while his other hand held Sam’s hips in place.

“You look at me when I fuck you.” Sam’s eyes fluttered open at the harsh tone and he wished he hadn’t. He didn’t recognize the man above him. The kind doctor was gone, the man comparable to a demon had taken over. Those green eyes Sam sought out for comfort were practically flooded onyx with lust.

Sam’s heart leaped to his throat; he was speechless. The first time Dean had taken him, his back was to Dean. He couldn’t see the man’s face until the very end. Now that he saw the man who he’d identified as the dark version of Dean, he was glad that he hadn’t seen him before.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dean decided to focus on Sam’s neck rather than that hurt puppy dog look in his eyes. “You were enjoying yourself, baby.” His hips somehow seemed to speed up, fucking his fat cock into Sam’s abused hole. The way he laid over Sam giving him a perfect angle. Sam’s hole squeezed Dean like a vice, his own cock leaking precum against Dean’s moving belly. 

Sam’s heart sank further at the realization that Dean understood he no longer wanted this, Dean just didn’t care. Sam’s hips unwillingly bucked up when Dean’s teeth sank into his neck. Dean’s tongue swirled and his lips sucked, marking Sam up as his.

“Well, look at that. Maybe you still want it.” Dean groaned against the tender skin. Dean’s hand snuck between their bodies to wrap around Sam’s cock but unexpectedly found something better. “Oh fuck!” His hips stilled, holding himself deep inside Sam. He sat up to kneel between Sam’s spread legs, a smile crossing his face.

“Sammy,” Dean’s voice carried such an awe as he stared down. “Your belly’s fucking bulging out.” One hand held his hip still while the other pressed down on Sam’s stomach. Sam yelped at the feeling and knowledge of being so full. “I think that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

The mere sight of Sam being stuffed so full of his cock to the point it was protruding out made Dean groan. Dean got a wicked idea and chose to press down harder, making Sam’s hole feel so much tighter around him. Sam hadn’t registered that he’d begun to cry more, small sobs leaving him while he whimpered and unintentionally tightened around Dean. It felt as if Dean’s cock was going quite literally break him.

The older man grew tired of the stillness quickly and began to thrust his hips again. His hands worked to grab at the lube, easily popping the cap open. He didn’t bother worrying about a mess, drizzling the thick liquid directly onto Sam’s cock. His big hand wrapped around Sam’s cock. He worked his strokes in tandem with his trusts, pulling the sweetest little whines and moans from Sam’s lips.

He was scared and hurt but fuck- the pleasure was undeniable. Maybe it was the lube or Dean’s hand wrapped around his cock. Hell, maybe it was the drugs he’d been tricked into consuming. 

Precum dribbled down Sam’s cock in thick globs and he knew he was close. Shame bubbled in his chest at the idea of cumming again from the cock he didn’t want. 

Sam clenched his jaw and tried to focus on something that wasn’t the hand jerking him so good or the fat cock hitting his prostate. Dean’s expression was one of smugness and pleasure, getting off on the way Sam quivered in spite of himself. 

Dean’s grip was hard enough to bruise. He’s growling like an animal as he focuses on the way his long, thick cock fucks into Sam’s hole. The noise of skin on skin and Sam’s pathetic cries filled the room, working together to drive Dean closer to his desired release. 

Dean felt as Sam’s body shook beneath him and he smirked. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” His cock pulsed, his thighs clenched and quivered.

Sam was unable to stifle his cries, unable to stop his body from reacting. Sam’s cock spurted hot, thick cum all over his belly. Dean growled at the sight, the sheer amount enough to push him close to his edge. Pride swelled in his chest when more of Sam’s release dripped down his knuckles.

Sam’s body felt number now, his eyes seemed to have rolled back. He can’t move, he can hardly think now. He can’t bring himself to feel anything- not that he’d want to. The way his unsturdy bed rocking echoed in his ears- he could tell Dean was fucking fast and rough.

“You’re my good little boy, aren’t you? So pliant… so obedient.” Sam hears Dean grunt out but it’s as if he’s at a distance, his words jumbling when they hit Sam’s ears. Sam knows that’s not the case, he can sense Dean’s hips slamming into him, his chest hovering over Sam’s. His eyes even flutter back open when he feels Dean’s fingers run across his abdomen, collecting some of the mess Sam had made.

Sam chokes when Dean shoves two of his thick fingers into Sam’s mouth. He gags when Dean rubs his fingertips on his tongue. Sam’s eyes water once more, harshly breathing through his nose as he tastes his own cum in his mouth.

“I should’ve put a condom on,” Sam coughs and gags harder when Dean adds another finger to his mouth and pushes them deeper before withdrawing. “But fuck… I wanna see this.”

Sam’s whole body tensed and his stomach turned in knots when he felt the warmth of Dean’s cum flooding him. His mouth dropped open to a wide ‘o’ as a silent cry left his lips. Dean was still fucking into him with a quick, sloppy pace. Sam’s face twisted into such a look of brokenness that Dean couldn’t even look. 

He allowed his muscles to give out, collapsing onto the young boy. His cock was twitching as his hips finally stilled, his spent cock deep inside Sam’s ass. As if he had just been possessed, the perverted, cruel version of Dean melted away. He nuzzled his face into Sam’s neck, having to adjust his body to make it work. The older man’s arms looped around Sam and he snuggled against him, humming out his contentment.

Dean can feel Sam’s rapid heart beat thumping against his naked chest. He practically purrs as he presses wet kisses to Sam’s neck. “Just breathe, baby.” Dean lifted his body from Sam’s, unable to look at the boy’s heart shattering expression. He reached between their bodies, hands on Sam’s narrow hips as he pulled out. Sam gasped when he felt thick warmth leak from his hole and down his ass. 

Dean licked his lips as he took in the sight. Sam looked so pretty like this. Dean’s cum dripping from his abused ass and his own release blanketing his belly. 

Dean moved around a bit and Sam just closed his eyes. He wanted to be anywhere else. Usually when he was sad or angry he’d go to his bed. His last safe place- at least it was until Dean stole it from him.

He felt Dean’s fingers slip into his mouth once more, not rough enough to gag him this time. Sam was relieved when he didn’t taste any of his own salty release on his tongue like before.   
It was just Dean’s thumb, hooking over his bottom lip and teeth, pulling his mouth open. “Open your eyes, Sam. Please.”

Dean’s voice was collected again, almost gentle. Sam allowed his eyes to flutter back open just a tad, only to close them again when he saw a bright flash. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Sam couldn’t build up the energy to question, especially when Dean withdrew his fingers. Dean’s full lips pressed to Sam’s in a loving kiss, his hand caressing the boy’s cheek. 

“You’re so beautiful. I wish I could stay,” Dean muttered against his lips. “But I promised the missus we’d have a movie night.” Then the warmth of his body is gone. Sam misses it when the cold air hits him once more. Dean uses Sam’s boxers to clean himself before redressing. Sam doesn’t move a muscle, the haze of his release only making his body feel even more exhausted. Then Sam remembered the drugs. What the fuck had Dean given him if not roofies?

“I can see that little mind working.” Dean commented, zipping and buttoning his jeans. “You won’t be like this forever, just a few hours.” Dean glanced at his watch. “You should probably sleep, sweetheart. You’ll need water and sugar when you wake up.”

Sam watched with fluttering eyes as the doctor pressed a kiss to his forehead… then his mind blurred over.

Sam awoke hours later, alone, drenched in sweat, and naked. His mind finally came out of the haze, the many sensations that shot through his body were overwhelming. He was so sore. He hurt. Oh god, his whole body hurt. Sam whimpered when he shifted his legs. He could feel stickiness between his thighs. His jaw dropped in a gasp as he felt something dripping from his hole. 

He could hardly remember what had happened, no matter how hard he tried. All he could recall was emerald green eyes staring down into his. Sam didn’t stop himself from crying as he came to realize what that meant. Dean had been at his home, in his bed. Sam has been used once again and left with the mess, the pain, his mind damaged and his heart shattered.

It took him a few moments to sit up properly without yelling out. Sam pulled his blanket around his shivering body and observed the room. It looked as if nothing had been disturbed, as if nothing had happened. Maybe if Sam tried hard enough he could convince himself it was the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m adding more parts because I feel there is more of this story to be told. My version of Dean Smith is probably my favorite character to write and I have plenty more planned for him and Sam.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam deals with the aftermath of his second encounter with Dean.

Sam felt fingers prod at his neck once more. His reaction had become one of lightning speed, quickly slapping away his friend's hand.

“Knock it off, Ben.” Sam whisper-shouted, glancing around the library as he pulled the collar of his sweatshirt higher.

“You can’t show up with a hickey and expect me not to ask.” The black haired boy chuckled, his smile faltering just a bit when he saw Sam’s jaw clench. “C’mon, don’t be bitchy.”

“I’m not.” Sam cast his eyes back to the book in front of him. He’d been on the same page for about ten minutes, unable to focus. His English class had gone to the library for silent reading, but that wasn’t working out very well.

“Dude I’m your best friend!” The elderly librarian quickly shushed Ben, who rolled his eyes. “You can tell me anything… like who gave it to you.” Sam turned his head and found a cheeky smirk on his lips. 

“It’s none of your business.” Sam bit the inside of his cheek while Ben scoffed. How could he even begin to try and explain the mark on his neck?

“Fine.” He scooted even closer to Sam, so close that their thighs touching so he could whisper. “I’m just gonna keep guessing until you tell me.” He poked at Sam’s neck again, snorting when Sam’s hand flew to swat him away.

“Please don’t.” Sam couldn’t do more than sigh in annoyance. He tried so hard to push down the anxiety bubbling inside him. He needed to just stay calm, he fought back blush and even tears in order to look okay- he was very far from okay.

“Was it Jess? I know you used to talk to her.” Ben waited for Sam to react but continued when he didn’t. “What about Madison... no wait she has a boyfriend. Oh god, please don’t tell me it’s that bitch Ruby. I know she’s got a weird thing for you but she’s a senior- not to mention crazy as hell. Slutty too, like really-“

Once again Ben was shushed by the librarian. She gave both boys a warning that they’d have detention if they didn't ‘stop their yapping.’ Sam didn’t have the energy to argue his innocence, instead he nodded and apologized on behalf of his friend. His teacher shot them a glare as well, along with a few other students chuckling. Sam felt surrounded, like he was being cornered.

“It’s none of them, okay?” Sam hissed. His whole body felt hot, like he was going to start sweating. “Just drop it.” The intensity in his eyes was unlike anything Ben had ever seen before in his friend. He nodded slowly, mouthing an apology and sinking in his chair.

The second that the bell for lunch rang, Sam was up from his chair and speeding out of the library, leaving his friend alone and confused. Sam found himself in one of the bathrooms, looking into the mirror over the group of sinks. 

He pulled the collar of his shirt down and leaned in close, taking in the sight. He hadn’t even realized a hickey was there until Ben pointed it out this morning. The mark looked angry, his skin bruised with a swirl of red and purple, small indents of teeth still visible. His cheeks flushed and his stomach churned at the thought of how it got there.

Sam heard a whistle behind him and he looked like a deer in headlights. Sam didn’t bother turning around, the mirror provided a perfect view. “Damn, Winchester.” The amused voice of Gabriel echoed through the restroom. “Tell your girl to use less teeth.” Sam mustered up his best fake laugh. On the inside he was screaming.

Gabriel was an acquaintance, maybe a bit more, but he wasn’t exactly a friend. He’s older and along with being the class clown he was a huge gossip. No matter how many Gods he could pray to, Sam knew Gabe wouldn’t keep what he saw to himself. He just hoped it wouldn’t spread.

A high school boy with a hickey wasn’t exactly news. It’s not like Gabriel knew the whole story, Sam thought. But, a doctor beloved by all in the small town having a relationship- if it could even be called that- with a patient? That certainly was news. Sam would make sure no one knew or would ever know that a man old enough to be his father had left the mark on Sam’s neck- along with a stain on his soul. 

Sam didn’t respond, instead he snatched his bag from the ground and stormed out. Gabriel chuckled and shook his head, making a joke to himself about America’s youth.

With nowhere else to go, Sam found himself behind the back wall outside of the cafeteria. It smelled of garbage and pot; Sam made sure to not go near the trash cans. There was a fence about 7ft high separating the school and outside. Sam wondered if he could jump the fence, if he could run and just keep going.

Instead, Sam did something that he concluded was even stupider than ditching.

He clutched his phone in his palm and stared down at the screen. Sam took a deep breath, he couldn’t believe he was about to do this. He pressed the ‘call’ button and held it to his ear, listening to the ringing.

“Aren’t you in school? Or are you taking another sick day?” The gruff voice answered after four rings. Sam almost shivered at the tone.

“You haven’t been answering my texts.” Sam muttered back, pacing back and forth.

“I told you, baby. I’m not a texting person.” Sam knew there was a smirk on Dean’s face without having to see it.

Sam took a shaking breath. “Don’t call me that.” His cheeks flushed, his whole body feeling warm. That panic, that extreme anxiety bubbled up again. He tried to take deep breaths, not wanting to have a panic attack near the damn dumpsters.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” Dean cut to the chase, he had to go into his private office in the middle of an appointment to answer the boy’s call. He could hear Sam’s rapid breaths and hoped he wasn’t going to spend to long building up to something. 

Sam scoffed. “Where do I start?” He couldn’t believe Dean had actually just asked him that. “I know you were at my house last night but then I woke up at three in the morning and you were gone!” Sam looked around and made sure no one was listening. “I was naked and sore and I can barely remember anything!”

“Shhh, calm down.” Dean’s voice was gentle, collected. The words sounded oddly familiar but Sam couldn’t place them. “You really don’t remember?” 

“No!” Sam hissed through his clenched teeth. Dean licked his lips at the perfect opportunity. 

“You saw our texts, didn’t you?” He didn’t bother to wait for Sam’s response. “You invited me over and you spazzed out.” Well, that part was true. “You told me you were confused about our relationship and even more you were upset about your dad.” Dean’s tone was smooth. “You said you didn’t want to be alone and you said that you wanted me to help you feel good. Don’t you remember?”

Sam’s anger deflated almost instantaneously. He furrowed his brows and tried to concentrate. He hadn’t told anyone about his situation with his dad, not even Ben knew the full extent. But if Dean knew then… maybe it was possible?

“You still there?” Dean smirked when he heard Sam hum in response. “I’m sorry you don’t remember, baby. But you were really worked up, I was really worried. You said you needed me to take your mind off of things.” Dean chuckled lightly. “Maybe I did too well.” Dean sounded so sure that Sam was easily becoming convinced. Dean was glad that he rehearsed his lines. Maybe in another life he was an actor, but then again he knew Sam wasn’t too hard to manipulate. 

“But-“

“If you’re upset about me leaving, I’m really sorry. You were asleep and I just didn’t want you to worry about your father catching us.” 

Sam’s mind raced as Dean’s words sank in. He hadn’t remembered texting Dean all that clearly, but he had his own messages along with Dean’s to piece it together. The timeline that he'd put together was fuzzy. The time between texting Dean and waking up in pain something had happened. Sam just wasn’t exactly sure what had transpired. However, the Doctor seemed to remember just fine. Maybe with Dean’s help he could fill in the rest of the blanks.

“Listen, I have to get back to work but maybe we can talk later.” His tone wasn’t a questioning one, it was a statement. “Preferably in person. I’m just not a phone guy.” Sam recalled Dean mentioning that before today. But then he realized he’d seen it in their texts. Christ, he truly was lost. He needed to unjumble the memories that he had and fill in the rest. “I can take you to dinner if you don’t want me to come by the house. Say it’s like a mentor thing or somethin’.” Dean’s tone was casual and kind, portraying the man Sam had fallen for. 

Sam smiled briefly at the offer before he looked to where the sidewalk meets the corner of the building and saw a group of rougher looking kids heading his way. Sam’s eyes went wide when he noticed the biggest in the group had locked his eyes on him. “I- I gotta go.” 

Sam hung up quickly, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. He kept his head down as he walked around the cluster. He found his way to the courtyard where his group usually hung out during lunch.

“There he is!” Ben had his hands on his hips and a brow cocked. Sam rolled his eyes at how much Ben looked like his mother right now. “And where have you been, huh? You better have a good excuse. I tried to save your spot in the food line.”   
Sam scoffed out a laugh when he was pegged in the forehead with a carrot. “It’s shit anyway, consider yourself lucky.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sam pulled his backpack off and set it on the ground before taking a seat on one of the backless benches. He hid his wince at the slight pain on his ass.

The state Sam had been in when he woke up left little to the imagination. His own cum pooled on his belly and Dean’s dripping from his ass. After Sam scrubbed himself clean he looked in the mirror. His ass cheeks were a shade of pink from Dean’s rough thrusts. Marks in the shape of large hands had printed into Sam’s sides. Paired with that was a hand shaped bruise on his thigh. He vaguely remembered Dean’s hand coming down to slap against his thigh. He bit his lip at the memory.

Sam cried himself to sleep that night, curled up on his floor. His bed no longer felt safe. Even if he washed his sheets, he felt it wouldn’t be clean. He texted Dean multiple times, but all went unanswered.

‘What happened?’

‘Where are you?’

‘What did you do to me?’

‘Why aren’t you answering?’

‘Are you mad at me?’

‘I’m sorry.’

Fear had gripped him that night. What if Dean ignored him on purpose? He apologized three more times over text, even leaving a shaky breathed voicemail, asking if he’d upset Dean.

He didn’t know, but the doctor had listened. It was confirmed for Dean that he had Sam under his control. Dean had slept soundly that night, earbuds stuck in his ears as he listened to Sam’s whimpering voice begging for forgiveness. Sam had nothing to be sorry for, they both knew. Well, maybe Sam couldn’t remember, but he’d never felt this level of rejection before. Dean had the young boy wrapped around his finger, something as simple as unopened texts had sent him spiraling.

Sam was vaguely aware that his friends were speaking to him, but his mind raced. A part of Sam, the part that wanted so desperately to believe Dean, told him he probably had asked for it and now he felt foolish.

But another part of him, the part that kept losing due to Sam’s willful ignorance, told him something about what Dean had told him didn’t seem right. He just couldn’t place his finger on it.

“What is with you lately? Are you even listening?” The red-headed girl crossed her arms and looked down to Sam. 

“I’m fine.” Sam shrugged but she looked unconvinced. Sam didn’t even believe his words, he couldn’t blame her.

“Just leave him alone, Charlie. I tried already.” Ben dropped down next to Sam. “He’s being a mega bitch.” He whisper-shouted to the standing girl before laughing. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and focused on his hands in his lap. Both kids frowned at Sam but said nothing.

“Maybe,” Charlie spoke up, taking a seat on the other side of Sam. “Maybe if you’re feeling… y’know sad... you could talk to the counselor?” Her smile had dropped now, her expression and voice portraying extreme concern.

“You mean the guy who’s actually the swim coach and totally unqualified? No thanks.” Sam scoffed and closed his eyes. For the first time today he focused on actually going back to his room last night rather than avoiding it. If he really focused he could see Dean standing in his doorway.

As his mental picture of himself led Dean back to his bedroom, Charlie decided it was the perfect time to flick him across the cheek. His eyes snapped open and he turned to face her with furrowed brows. “What the hell was that for?” 

“You know we love you, Sam. Something is going on, I can tell.” Charlie glanced around Sam to see Ben, who had begun to play on his phone. “He even can tell and he doesn’t take his eyes off that thing. It's a sign, Sam.”

“A sign of what?” Sam mused, humoring Charlie with a bored expression to mask his internal battle.

“A sign that you suck at hiding your feelings and that you need to talk to us!” She nudged him with her shoulder and gave him a weak smile. “Maybe we- well, maybe I can help.”

Sam clicked his tongue and laughed in spite of himself. How the hell would he even begin to explain what he’s gone through? He thought it over for not even three seconds before concluding he most certainly could not tell anyone. Not even his closest friends. No one could ever know, he wouldn’t do that to himself or Dean. Both had too much to lose and Sam still cared about the man. 

“I’ll be okay.” Sam announced after a few moments of being quiet. “I just… need some time to figure things out.” 

Charlie’s expression was one of confusion and curiosity. “Figure what out?” The bell that signaled the end of lunch rang. Sam stood and said a quick goodbye before heading into his next class. He only had a few hours left until he could go home, maybe then he could finally focus.

“Sam! Just wait!” Ben called after and Sam groaned but stopped nonetheless. “Look, I know you don’t want to say what’s up, but,” Ben shrugged. “Do you maybe wanna come over later? My mom would be okay with it.”

Sam smiles at Ben’s offer and contemplated only for a moment before accepting with a slight nod. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just have to ask my dad.” That was a lie, they both knew it. As long as it wasn’t a practice or a game day his father wouldn’t care where he was. Hell, his dad probably wouldn’t be at the house anyway.

“You can ride home with me from school and my mom can drop you off later.” Ben’s relief at Sam’s acceptance was evident and Sam genuinely smiled for the first time that day. “You can stay for dinner.”

“That sounds good.” Sam nodded before he headed towards his next class, leaving Ben behind quickly.

“Sam’s strong, he’ll be okay.” Charlie assures the dark haired boy. Her hand came down to pat his shoulder.

“I know...I just worry about him. I’ve never seen him like this before.” Ben had known Sam since elementary school. In fifth grade, Ben had a bully, some kid named Derek. He was a menace who got off on picking on smaller kids. His favorite pastime was shoving Ben to the mud and seeing how many kicks it took to make him cry.

Then Sam moved to town and quickly put a stop to that. He’d told the bully that if he ever touched Ben, or anyone else ever again, he’d have to get his nose replaced. At first Derek had laughed, Sam’s small stature making him less than intimidating. But, Sam Winchester sure could throw a punch. They’d been best friends ever since.

Sam had been a protector for Ben and it killed him he couldn’t do the same now. All Ben wanted was to help, but he never realized how little he could actually do. Sam spent so much time making sure his friends were okay and somewhere along the way they’d forgotten to return the favor. He wanted to make up for that now that Sam was hurting. He knew he needed to figure out what Sam was so worried about.

“Hi, Samuel!” The absolute cheeriness in the woman’s voice had Sam almost cringing.

“Hi, Ms. Braeden.” Sam greeted quietly and kindly, buckling his seat belt. Ben slid next to him and Lisa smiled in the rear view mirror at the two boys.

Ben scoffed as Sam’s politeness. “He doesn’t like to be called that.” Sam shot Ben a slide glare that told him to just drop it. 

“Right! Sorry,” Her smile never faltered as she giggled to herself. “Sam.” 

“It’s okay.” Ben smirked, nudging Sam with his shoulder. “Sam forgives you.” At that Sam rolled his eyes. Ben always got a kick out of messing with his overly nice mother. 

“So, how was your day?” Ms. Braeden asked no one in particular, waiting for one of the boys to jump in.

The rest of the car ride was filled with light conversation. Lisa asking her son and Sam questions about class or even what they ate for lunch. Lisa hated the silence, something Sam understood, but he didn’t feel the same. 

Silence reminded her of being alone and brought her back to a darker time. Being a mother and on her own as a young adult. In the early stages of Ben’s life she had been a less than perfect mother. Everyday she tried to make up for her many mistakes.

Lisa was the type of parent that Sam wished he had. Someone who was there for their child, supporting them rather than quite literally beating them down. Ms. Braeden treated Sam like he was her own and he was eternally thankful.

The second they got to Ben's house the boys headed to his room. “How do you listen to her rambling?” Ben laughed, dropping his backpack to the ground and throwing his body onto his bed. “I mean, I love my mom, I do! But she just talks so much!” Ben continued to laugh while Sam forced his best smile. He wished Ben could understand how truly lucky he was to have a mother like her. 

“Dude, cut her some slack.” Sam spoke up a few minutes later when Ben finally stopped complaining. They’d decided to watch the big screen tv that Ben had gotten for his birthday last year. Sam sat with his back against the headboard while Ben laid on his stomach facing the television. “She’s just trying to be nice to you.”

Usually Ben would retort with a joke about her or tell Sam to chill, but this time he bit his tongue. He didn’t want to get into an argument with his friend- especially not over his own mom. 

“You can talk to me, y’know.” Ben was never one to be serious, but Sam could hear the genuineness in his words.

But Sam knew he could, not about this. “Can you just stop asking? Please?” His tone wasn’t rude, more pleading than anything else.

Ben knew Sam better than his friend thought. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he had a rough home life. But, Sam’s friends made sure to not mention it. Ben felt it would be more humiliating for Sam.

John was a notorious drunk who most of the small town suspected was an abuser. Whenever anyone would see Sam with a bruised face or even a cast on his arm they’d talk. Sam would explain to his teachers or friends that it was an accident or because of basketball.

Of course no one believed him, but everyone kept their mouths shut, waiting for someone else to speak up. The bystander effect led to Sam’s life becoming hell. Sam desperately wanted help but was too far under his father’s control to ask or even admit that he needed it. But he also needed his dad. He knew that if something happened and his father was taken from him, Sam would be completely on his own with no where to go.

At some point in the beginning of their friendship, Ben has questioned how Sam could have possibly gotten a black eye from walking into a door- Sam’s go to excuse that year. When Ben started to question further, Sam had told him to drop it and if he ever mentioned it again, Sam would never speak to him again. Ben tried his hardest to respect Sam’s wishes, but everyday that he saw Sam hurting and could do nothing it broke his heart. Sam was his best friend, a good kid who deserved better than he got from life.

They spent hours just watching the television, not many words spoken between them. Occasionally Ben would snap a picture of himself making a funny face and send it to Sam. He managed to pull a laugh from his friend and it made him chuckle as well.

“Boys!” Lisa called out and Ben paused the tv. He patted Sam’s legs and they stood from the bed. “Dinner!” Sam followed behind Ben as they trailed into the kitchen. The aroma of pasta and tomato sauce filled the air. The scent of home cooked meals wasn’t something that Sam was used to, he made to savor it each time. 

“It looks great, Ms. Braeden.” Sam’s manners are on autopilot. Lisa smiles at Sam’s politeness, pulling her chair out and taking a seat.

In the house it’s just Ben and Lisa, but she has a rectangular table big enough to fit four people. Lisa always sits at the same side, as if they have designated spots. Sam on the right and Ben on the left. Expect this time, all four places are set. The seat across from Lisa is made up like all the rest, a hefty serving of pasta with sauce and extra meatballs. 

Ben sees the plate and rolls his eyes, stabbing at a meatball on his plate and stuffing it in his mouth. Sam furrows his brows as Lisa sighs at Ben’s attitude. “Ben-“

“You could have told me he was coming.” Her son grumbles out, mouth full. Sam goes to question the Braeden’s about this supposed guest, but then the door in the front room opens it. The door can be seen from Lisa’s spot due to the angle of the doorway. Her face lights up and Ben shoots Sam a look.

“Hi, sweetie!” Lisa calls, straightening up her back. 

“Hi, sweetheart! Sorry I’m late, busy day.” The voice of the guest has Sam freezing. The universe hated him, didn’t it? He dared to turn his head and his heart drops. His stomach churns and he feels as if he’s going to puke. “I see we have a guest.” A grin parts the doctor’s lips, so much so that there’s small crinkles near his eyes.

“Yes, this is Ben’s friend Sam.” Lisa explains as Dean takes a seat. He loosens his tie and smiles at the food in front of him. 

“Oh, I know Sam.” Dean twirls his fork, collecting pasta as he locks his eyes on Sam. Dean smiles even wider at the way Sam blushes, sinking down in his chair a tad. “He’s a patient of mine.”

Sam exhales in relief when Dean looks to Ben and asks him about school. Ben continues to stuff his face to avoid Dean’s questions. Sam catches Dean glancing at him and he wants to run.

It was one thing texting the man, even talking on the phone, but Sam hadn’t expected to see him so soon. He was overwhelmed by emotions. He only lasts a few minutes before he can’t take it anymore.

“Um, c-can you excuse me for a minute.” Sam stands on shaky legs, speed walking towards the bathroom before anyone can respond.

He closes the door behind him and presses his back against it. He wants to scream, even covering his mouth with his hand. His legs give out beneath him, his body feeling like dead weight as he drops to the ground. He hopes no one can hear him.

Sam knew that Dean had told him what truly transpired, but he wasn’t prepared to see him, especially not at his friends house. Sam recalled Ben mentioning his mom had a boyfriend, but Ben said he would bet money that they couldn’t last. So, Ben didn’t bring them up often. He never mentioned the guys name, but now Sam knew. He wished he didn’t.

A part of him still didn’t believe Dean. Sam thinks to himself that he wouldn’t have told Dean about his dad or asked Dean to sleep with him, at least he didn’t think he would. Now Sam is not sure of anything, not even himself.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip as he stood carefully, hands gripping the edge of the sink counter. He gazes at his reflection and can’t even recognize himself. Sam never showed his emotions so openly. And now? Now he let one man have so much power over him to the point he was hiding, fighting back confused tears.

Sam knew he would have to go back out there eventually. He sniffles, blinking rapidly until his eyes stopped watering. He wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, a small streak of blood staining his skin. He squares his shoulders and takes a few deep breaths. He tells himself to man up and face Dean, without Ben or Lisa catching on of course.

Sam stopped for a moment and recalled what had occurred. Dean had called Lisa sweetheart… the same thing he had called Sam before. The second he went down that hole he spiraled. Was Sam just a one- well, two time thing? Did Dean not have feelings for him at all? Oh god- did Dean love Lisa?

That thought hurt the most. 

Betrayal sinks in and his hands shake as he grasps the door handle and turns it. Sam steps out into the doorway, only to find his passage was blocked. Dean stood tall in the doorway, hand casually pressed against the wall. Sam stumbles back on his feet as Dean advanced.

“W-What are you doing?” Sam questioned as Dean closes the door, trapping Sam in the small room with him. 

“I came to check on you.” Dean clicked his tongue. “Ben said you weren’t acting like yourself earlier and since I am a doctor…” Dean’s tone was nonchalant, greatly contrasting Sam’s panicked expression.

“Please- Just,” Sam hates the way fear overtakes him when Dean is close. He doesn’t want to be afraid of the man he loves. One of Dean’s hands move to grip Sam’s shoulder and the other pulls his collar down, revealing his mark.

“There it is.” Dean purrs. “I made a bet with myself to see if it would still be there. I guess I won.” Dean’s smile makes Sam melt beneath his touch while simultaneously he feels the need to run. “What are you thinking about?”

“I think I should be scared of you.” It comes out of Sam’s mouth before he can think twice. Sam looks up at Dean for a brief moment and if he’s not mistaken, a look of confused sadness crossed the man’s features. His lips pull into a frown and his hands move to cup Sam’s cheeks.

“I know you’re worried, sweetheart. But please, let me explain this to you. I don’t wanna lose you because you’re nervous, baby boy.” Dean speaks kindly and Sam’s eyes are full of confusion. “Let me make it up to you.”

“I- I don’t know.” Sam does know. He wants things to be made right. He so desperately wants to forgive Dean and he wants Dean to care for him again. But Sam also knows that he doesn’t have the confidence to explain that to the man. 

Dean takes a breath before his expression hardens, pulling away. “You’re not going to say a word, just do exactly as I say.” Sam’s lip almost quivered as he nodded. His father used the same tone on him often, that low, firm growl that Sam had been conditioned to realize there was no room for debate. He was to follow orders to avoid his father’s wrathful fist.

So as Dean looks at him, he nods. Dean didn’t let his expression falter despite how he wanted to smile at Sam’s submission. ‘That’s all it takes,’ Dean thought to himself. For a moment he thought he lost Sam, but he reeled the young boy back in. 

He guided Sam out the door. Sam gave him a look that could only be described as ‘puppy eyes’ when they reached the dining room and Dean licked his lips. He turned his attention to Lisa while Ben shot Sam a questioning look.

“Sam isn’t feeling too well, so I figured I should drive him home.” Dean falsely explains and Sam looks to his feet. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry, Sam.” Lisa’s voice is full of worry and Sam can’t help but feel incredibly guilty. 

“You okay, Sam?” Ben asks with furrowed brows and a frown. Sam has an out, he can say he’s fine. He can stay, eat dinner with the Braeden’s and doctor Smith. But, that seems just as awkward- if not more awkward than being in a car alone with Dean.

Sam looks to Dean as if he’s silently asking permission to speak. The older man nodded ever so slightly and Sam sniffles fakely. “I just haven’t been feeling well, that’s all.” Sam replies quickly. “I’m gonna go get m- my stuff.” Sam scurries off to Ben’s room and Dean smirks.

“Are you sure you want to take him?” Lisa asks, standing from her chair.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” Lisa smiles at Dean, hands coming to cup his cheeks. Lisa presses her lips to Dean’s just as Sam comes back. That’s when Sam notices it. There’s a ring on her finger, it shimmers in the light. Ben cringes at the sight, making a gagging sound that has his mother chuckling.

Sam just wants to sink into the ground and disappear forever.

“Now, you guys finish eating and I’ll be back in a bit.” Dean tells the two. “I may have to swing by the office, but I’ll be home before it gets too late.” Dean mutters something in Lisa’s ear that neither boy can hear.

But Sam hears her response clear as day; “yes sir.”

Sam’s heart leaps to his throat and he heads for the door, not even saying goodbye to his friend.

Sam stands outside on the driveway, tears filling his eyes like a scorned lover. But realization sets in that he’s not Dean’s lover; he’s a dirty, filthy secret. Sam quietly mourns for what he’s never going to have, his hand moving to cover his mouth to muffle his renewed sobs.

“Get in the car.” Dean says when he reaches Sam, pulling open the passenger side door. He can’t see that Sam has been crying as he nudges him into the car. Dean takes his bag from him and opens the back door and quickly tosses it in. 

Sam crawls into the car and curls against the door, hiding his face. The doctor shuts the doors before crossing to the driver’s side and slipping into his seat. Both are silent as Dean pulls out of the driveway. With the way he’s covering his face, Sam can’t see that Dean had begun to drive in the opposite direction of his house.

Dean smirked to himself as he keeps his eyes on the road. Where were they going? Well, Dean hadn’t quite decided yet. Maybe somewhere quiet where he could be alone with his boy.


	4. Chapter 4

“Go on, ask.” Dean glanced to Sam, who’s bound to have noticed they were far from his home by now. The young boy had been looking out the window, refusing to move his gaze.

“Are you and Lisa married?” Sam’s question surprises Dean, his tone full of spite. Dean hadn’t expected that to be his query, but Dean answers nonetheless.

“Engaged.”

Sam can feel tears threatening to spill again. He wipes at his puffy eyes, ashamed that he probably looks pathetic right now. He won’t face Dean, he keeps his eyes on the window. “How long?”

Dean sighs at the unexpected guilt building up in his chest, the same guilt he felt when he accepted Lisa’s marriage proposal. It was an emotion he hardly ever felt- it didn’t last long either. “Last night.” Sam sucks in a shaky breath and can’t help but look to Dean, who’s white-knuckling the steering wheel. Sam’s brain seems to malfunction at the idea, unable to even form words. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Sam spits out, still attempting to process the information. Dean really left him that night to go home to Lisa, the mother of his best friend. They got engaged, probably celebrated, while Sam cried himself to sleep.

“Like your heart is broken.” Dean glances at him out of the corner of his eye. Sam’s shoulders slump and his cheeks flush red. He looks back out the window and squeezes his eyes shut. It’s like he’s in a nightmare and can’t wake up.

Dean feels like he should say something to Sam, but he decided against it. Sam is curled up, pressing his body against the window. Dean can hear him sniffle every once in a while, his hand coming to wipe at his face. Dean makes sure to lock the door incase Sam leans on it to much- at least that’s what he told himself.

Both are silent for what feels like hours, both lost in thought, Sam in embarrassment and hurt, and Dean attempting to understand Sam’s feelings. The doctor fails miserably. 

Dean sees an opportunity for a destination and turns onto the narrow side road. The town is small and at the very center there is a park. Not the type where children play, but the type for picnics and nature hikes. It closes to the public at 8pm, but no one stands guard. If you’ve lived in the town long enough, you know about the side road.

Dean hadn’t been on it in ages, but he remembered it like he had driven down it yesterday. The trail led to a small clearing that was surrounded by woods, aside from the small opening of course. It’s big enough for his car, maybe even a few more. 

It was the perfect place.

Sam doesn’t say a word as Dean puts the car in park. Dean feels like he has to physically push down his urges when he faces Sam fully. The boy is so pretty, so naive. Dean knew someone would have to be stupid to take their eyes off of him. 

“Sam-“

“I want the truth about Lisa.” Sam tries to sound confident, even harsh with his words. But the young boy fails miserably, his words coming out shaken. “I want the truth about everything. You owe me that… please.” Sam’s politeness had been conditioned into him, it was a habit.

Dean nods subtly, concluding to take things slow. Even he knows that won’t last long- Dean is an impatient man. “You’re right.” His voice is low, almost a mutter. It makes Sam look up at him, confusion etched on the young boy’s face. He’d never seen Dean like this, like he was worried- but that’s what Dean wanted him to think. Dean had to bite back a smirk when Sam’s expression softened. 

“I- I am?” Sam couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah.” Dean says curtly, but he doesn’t speak for a few moments. Instead he simply observes Sam. He licks his lips when his mind strays further to that dark place he’s come to appreciate. He had Sam alone in his car far from where anyone could hear them- it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“Really?” Sam swallows thickly, watching Dean’s hands as they move down to his own lap.

“Yeah, Sammy.” He grins at the boy, flipping open his belt. “You just have to earn it.” Sam watches with wide eyes as Dean unzipped his pants with a mischievous glint in his eye. He stares at Sam, unable to bite back a small chuckle as the boy gasps.

“You-“ Sam’s cheeks flush red the way Dean loves. “You want me to…” he glances to Dean’s lap as his big hand dips into his pants. 

“Just real quick.” The doctor reasons, pulling his cock from his pants. “Then I’ll tell you anything you want.” He bargained with Sam as he stroked his already half-hard cock.

“You promise?” Sam glances between Dean’s face and his cock. 

“Of course, Sam.” Dean moves his free hand to Sam’s shoulder. “Give me what I want and I give you what you want.”

Dean trails his hand to Sam’s neck before pushing him down. Sam’s whole body flushes at his roughness. Not finding himself with much of a choice, he complies to Dean’s commanding hold. The doctor rubs the tip of his cock over Sam’s closed mouth. 

“Open,” he commands. Sam wasn’t sure what to do fully, but ever since his first encounter with Dean he’d been... curious. The internet was a crazy place, easy access to any porn Sam could ever want. It was almost like research. Sam would watch the videos on his phone, his earbuds plugged in while he hid under his blanket. 

He knew it wasn’t out of the ordinary for a teen to watch that sort of thing, that his father would smirk if he caught Sam. He’s probably make some snide, demeaning comments about how Sam could never get a pretty girl like the ones in the videos. And Sam’s cheeks would flush with shame, praying his father wouldn’t find out that the videos always contained two men.

Thankfully, that never happened. His father never bothered to check on him.

Dean waits for Sam to open his mouth, smirking when the young boy does. Sam’s first instinct is to lap gently at the head. Dean hums in approval as Sam kitten licks his cock- then his patience quickly wears thin and he thrusts his hips up, sinking the first few inches of his cock into Sam’s mouth. 

The young boy gags at the hot and heavy feel on his tongue, he can taste the salty pre-cum. The groan Dean lets out causes heat to flare in Sam’s belly. The conflicting feeling of shame and arousal makes Sam’s head spin.

“Look at that,” he grinds out, watching Sam’s body shift, trying to become comfortable. Dean’s hand tangles in Sam’s hair, guiding the boy up and down. “Such a pretty boy with my dick in your mouth…” Sam digs his fingers into Dean’s meaty thigh. 

Dean gives a slow stroke, testing how deep Sam can take him before he gets carried away. Sam chokes when Dean presses him down further, forcing more of his cock into Sam’s mouth. Sam tries so hard to work past the burn in his throat, breathing heavily through his nose. 

“That’s my good boy…” He speeds up a little, guiding Sam by his brown locks. He drags Sam’s head all the way up before shoving him back down. Sam wails at the pain shooting through his scalp and throat. Tears leak down his cheeks and Sam knows- once again- that he’s made a mistake trusting Dean. He just can’t help it, he cares too deeply for the man. He wanted so desperately to trust him, to believe in Dean.

“You fucking love it, don’t you?” Dean muses, watching as Sam’s thighs squeeze together, unable to help himself. “You’re getting turned on, huh? Just by having my cock in your mouth…” Dean was getting rougher with the boy, forcing him down by his hair. Dean didn’t bother moving Sam much, instead he thrust his hips up, his cock slamming into Sam’s waiting mouth. 

Every time the fat tip of the doctor’s cock hit the back of Sam’s throat, his cries were muffled. Dean found himself approaching release quicker than he thought was possible at his age. There was something about the way Sam complied to his will, the way he could feel tears and saliva drip onto him, the way Sam’s whimpers were muted by Dean’s fat cock. It was too much.

“Fuck- letting me use your mouth like a little slut- oh fuck!“ Dean held Sam down as he bucked his hips up wildly. Seconds later he was spilling his seed onto Sam’s tongue, flooding the young boy’s mouth. Dean wasn’t surprised when Sam gagged around his length, trying to pull away. The angle made it hard for Sam to swallow Dean’s full load. 

Dean finally untangled his fingers from Sam’s hair, allowing the young boy to pull off. The second Dean’s cock slipped from his mouth, Sam was gasping and coughing. Dean made a disgruntled sound when Sam spit up most of his cum back into his lap as the boy tried to breathe. Sam nearly collapsed as air flooded his deprived lungs.

“You’re a messy little bitch, aren’t you?” Dean grunted out, shoving the panting boy back against the passenger's seat. Dean reached into the glove compartment and retrieved napkins. ‘You can never have enough,’ Lisa would say, asking for extra napkins to store in the car when they would get fast-food . Dean was grateful for her habit in the moment as he cleaned himself up.

Sam was too stunned to speak. His throat hurt, but more than that he was ashamed of the mess he had made. He really hoped Dean wouldn’t be angry with him- his heart couldn’t take it.

Sam shifted in the seat, his whole body unintentionally quivering when his hard cock pressed against his jeans. The friction was delightful and made Sam clench his eyes in pleasure- it did not go unnoticed by the older man.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Dean chuckled as he tossed the napkins out the window and buttoned up his pants. He didn’t bother waiting for Sam to respond, reaching out for the boy. His heavy hand wrapped around the back of Sam’s neck, pulling him close until their lips touched. 

Dean knew what he was doing as he cupped Sam’s cheeks, tongue running over Sam’s bottom lip before kissing him again. Affection equals submission; it was that simple in Dean’s mind. Sam was truly naive and starved of love, he was putty in Dean’s hands within moments, not a bit of resistance in his eyes when Dean kissed him harder. Maybe he didn’t have to be cruel.

The young boy was purring, hands moving to paw at Dean’s shirt, pulling him closer. He felt like the kids in the scary movies, seated in a car in a secluded area, kissing breathlessly. Needy sounds escaped Sam’s lips when Dean slipped him tongue- Dean was sure to taste himself in Sam mouth and the young boy whimpered.

But, unlike the movies where the big bad monster would appear outside the car and stir up chaos and inflict pain, the monster was inside the car, running his hands down Sam’s slender body. Dean muttered dirty things against Sam’s lips, calling him a slut, telling Sam that he belonged to him. His lips worked over Sam’s while his hands rubbed the bulge in the young boy’s pants.

Dean pulled away, his hot breath in Sam’s face as he grunted out; “back seat. Now.” Dean reached for his door and pressed the unlock switch, a chorus of clicking runs through the car. 

“Yes, sir.” Sam does as he’s told without hesitation, pulling at the door handle with excitement bubbling in his chest. Dean smirks at the title, briefly looking back with fondness to the first time Sam had called him that.

“Lie on your back.” Dean commands once they’re out of the car. Even if Dean hadn’t used his bossy tone, Sam would have complied anyway. His eagerness outweighed his confusion of Dean’s drastic mood changes as he pulled the backseat door open. He didn’t watch as Dean walked around the car to stand behind him, but Sam could feel the man’s presence as he crawled into the car.

Sam flipped onto his back when he was fully in the car, rising his knees up when Dean crawled into the car. It was a tight fit- even less room when Dean closed the door. Without a word Dean worked on getting Sam’s sneakers off, dropping them onto the ground.

Next came his pants. Dean flashed the blushing boy a smirk as he flipped to button open. Sam bit his bottom lip in frustration when Dean’s fingers ever-so-slowly worked to unzip his pants. Dean chuckled when Sam’s hips bucked up.

“You’re so goddamn needy, like a bitch in heat.” Dean mocked the young boy, who lifted his hips as Dean pulled his pants down to his thighs. “Should collar you…” Dean’s words faded in Sam’s ears, more focused on the intimacy of Dean sliding his pants down his legs.

And the kiss- oh god it was perfect- Sam knew he’d be dreaming of it for a while. This is the Dean that Sam used to fantasize about, the one who kissed him rather than hurt him. Sam’s damaged mind concluded that this moment now could make up for everything in the past. 

Sam knew in the back of his mind that he was trying so desperately hard to make excuses for Dean, not wanting his love to be corrupted. And now he wasn’t sure of anything, one second Dean was treating him like a rag doll that he could toss around and use, and the next he treated Sam like they were together. It was all so conflicting for Sam that it was easier to not try to process it.

Instead, Sam focused on the goosebumps rising on his skin from Dean’s touch. Both were silent, aside from heavy breathing as Dean worked Sam’s pants down his ankles. The space was small, Sam had to compress his body and hold his knees up while Dean hunched over him to fit.

The way Sam looked at him with such awe and devotion made Dean’s head spin. It felt good having someone feel so deeply for him that no matter what, Sam would crawl back to him. Dean wasn’t the type to be in love, he wasn’t even in love with Lisa. She was more convenient than anything else- not to mention perfectly legal. He hadn’t expected her to propose to him- she should have known better- but he should have to.

He had been in a good mood after his visit with Sam, his mind in bliss. She popped the question right when he got home and Dean hardly listened, agreeing without truly registering his words. Then she was kissing him and smiling, slipping a ring on his finger and leading him back to the bedroom. She was good, but she was nothing compared to the way Sam’s body felt around his. No one past or present could compare to Sam.

Dean’s hands hadn’t stopped working even when he had zoned out. Sam’s boxers found themselves joining his shoes and pants on the floor of the car. His cock was hard, slapping against his thigh. The cold in the car had him gasping, his body shivering. Dean tugged Sam’s shirt off, the young body lifted his upper body and raised his arms so it could be slipped off. Dean bunches up the clothing and stuffs it under Sam’s head.

“Look at you…” Dean drawled out, hungry eyes raking over the nude boy’s body. His pretty cock was hard and curving up to his taut belly. Dean’s hands gripped under Sam’s knees and struggled to bring them up over his broad shoulders. Sam’s cock slaps against his skinny belly, a surprised whimper passing his lips when Dean kisses his thigh.

Sam makes a yelping sound, like a surprised animal when Dean’s wet tongue runs over his hole. Dean’s hot breath against the new wetness sends a shiver cascading through Sam’s body. Dean hummed when Sam’s hole clenched, needily lapping his tongue over Sam’s hole again and again. The sweet whimpers that fell from the boy’s lips were so pretty, like music to Dean’s ears.

It was the dirtiest thing that Sam had ever experienced, Dean’s wet muscle prodding at his quivering entrance. Dirtier than when the man had fucked all the way into his hole or even Sam swallowing down his cum. This somehow felt more intimate, Dean focusing solely on Sam’s pleasure. 

Maybe it was because of the power he held, having Sam like this so needy for him, his hard cock drooling precum onto his belly. Or perhaps it was the sweet moans and whimpers that fell from Sam’s pretty lips as he bucked up to meet the thrusts of Dean’s tongue. All he knew was that he loved it. Dean forcing his tongue into Sam’s pretty hole, making the boy respond in a delicious way. It was gorgeous.

Sam’s legs quivered when Dean spit directly onto his hole before thrusting two thick fingers in. They pushed and curled with expertise, finding Sam’s sweet spot without having to think. He memorized Sam’s body over their encounters and intended on putting it to good use.

Dean glanced up, admiring Sam’s flushed cheeks and slack jaw. His hair was damp from sweat, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. He panted out pleads, expletives, and even Dean’s name, unable to fully vocalize a thought. Sam’s head was swirling with bliss. He felt as if he was floating in a sea of pleasure, unable to be grounded. 

Dean’s mouth moved back, working with his fingers. Kissing his thighs, running his tongue over Sam’s balls and a bit of his cock that was within reach. Dean got rougher and rougher, thrusting his fingers harder, his kisses even turning into nibbling bites.

Sam’s cock twitched and he knew he was close, it was out of his control. Dean hiked the young boys hips up higher with his free hand, continuing to fuck his fingers into Sam with his other. A third finger slipped in to join the others, pulling a gasp from Sam’s lips.

A wail of pleasure fell from Sam’s lips as he came, his cock pulsing and spilling his release onto his belly. Dean didn’t stop his fingers as he sank his teeth sharply into the meat of Sam’s thigh right near his ass. Sam’s hips thrust up in shock at the pain and he could’ve sworn he felt his own cum hit his chin when his cock spurted again.

“Damn, you really are messy.” Dean grunted as he pulled away entirely. Sam whined when Dean’s fingers and mouth left, pouting when Dean dropped his legs. “If you get any on my seat, you’ll be licking it up.” Sam registered Dean’s teasing tone, but he wouldn’t put it past the man.

He leaned over Sam’s slender body, one hand tangling in Sam’s hair while the other palmed his own bulge. He pressed his lips roughly to Sam’s, his needy tongue exploring the boys mouth. Dean bit back a chuckle as Sam gasped, knowing the boy was certain to taste himself.

Sam moaned against his lips, wrapping his slender arms around the doctor’s shoulders. Even after everything he can’t help that deep need inside of him that longs for Dean. Sam wants the man’s body, mind, heart, and soul. He just wants Dean to be as much his as he is Dean’s. He knew he would have many challenges to endure to prove himself worthy of being Dean’s one and only.

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you?” Dean’s tone is full of dominance, his question making Sam meet his eyes. Sam knows that look very well, it always made his stomach turn in knots. Was it out of excitement or fear? He hadn’t determined yet. What he did know is that he didn’t want this moment with Dean to end.

“Yes, sir.” Sam gave him a sweet, almost nervous smile. Dean licks his lips at the young boy, like a wolf staring at its prey. Dean hummed in approval; little Sammy was so much better than Lisa.

Then the entire moment was broken by the harsh ring of Dean’s cell phone.

Sam’s whole body jolted at the sound, eyes going wide when Dean scowled. He sat up, his hand digging into his back pocket and produced the device. “Keep your damn mouth shut.” Dean pointed a finger at the young body, who snapped his mouth closed.

Sam nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He moved to sit up, but Dean’s free hand landed over his knee. He took a shaky breath when he caught a glimpse of the screen before Dean’s answered and his heart dropped when he saw the name. 

“Hi, baby.” The lust and gruffness has cleared from Dean’s voice. “What’s up.” He sounded like he usually did, before everything else he’d experienced with the man. That slightly cheery yet casual tone, like when he would talk to patients. It was too normal, it didn’t seem to fit anymore in Sam’s eyes.

Sam can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but he knows who it is. Sam makes an attempt to move, to sit up again rather than lie in the backseat of the car. Dean glared at Sam as he spoke to his fiancé. 

“I’ll be home soon, sweetheart.” Dean spoke quickly, somehow able to hide his urgency. “I know, I love you too.”

Sam clenched his eyes shut, his whole body feeling hot with guilt. Here he was, laid out in Dean’s backseat naked when he knew the man had a good woman at home waiting. Sam loves Lisa like she was his mother, she treated him with kindness and care. He felt as if he was betraying her. Who was he kidding? He was betraying her. It was his fault, he shouldn’t have been tempted by Dean. 

Dean hung up, reaching over to drop his phone in the front seat. “Now, where were we?” Dean moved to hover over Sam, grinning when their noses brushed.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his head. He thought of Lisa, who was probably waiting at home for Dean. She was a good woman, she didn’t deserve this. He thought of Ben as well, who would most certainly hate him if he knew what was transpiring. Sam’s mind was flooded with distaste for himself. 

Dean fingers gripped his chin and turned his head back. “Wait no, this- this is wrong.” Sam said firmly before clamping his lips shut.

Dean took a deep breath before exhaling with an annoyed groan. “Are you fucking serious? Are we gonna have to go through this every time?” 

Sam exhaled in a shudder at Dean’s harsh, annoyed tone. “I mean it- I just-“

“I’m gettin’ real sick of this act of yours.” The older man grunted. Sam pushed Dean away when he tried to press his lips to Sam’s. The man grunted at the denial, his control snapping. His big hands moved to snap around Sam’s wrists, painfully slamming them against the doors window above him. 

Sam whimpered at the pain, squirming beneath the hold. Dean was much stronger, though. He moved so both of Sam’s wrists were in one of his hands. His other hand moved to his own belt, pulling it free with ease.

“You’re gonna regret being such a tease.” Dean muttered. In a swift motion that Sam hardly registered, Dean had wrapped his belt around Sam’s wrists. Once it was tightly secured, he pulled the other end through the roof handle. He wrapped the end of the belt through the opening, looping it a second time before tying it. Dean knew it would ruin the leather, but a new belt was the last thing on his mind.

Sam’s hands were now suspended above his head, but his back was still to the seat. He wiggled against the hold of the belt, but Dean was better at knot tying than one would expect. Dean laughed in his face at Sam’s poor escape attempt. 

“It’s like you always want it to end this way.” Dean strips his shirt from his body and tosses it into the front seat. “It’s like you wanna get hurt.” Sam whimpers Dean spanks his thigh. “I try to be nice and yet it's never enough for you! You’re a little pain slut, aren’t ya?”

“No.” Sam shakes his head, pressing his feet to the seat and trying to push himself away. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” Dean growled, gripping Sam’s thighs hard and prying them apart. “Nothing is ever enough. If acting like I care isn’t enough then fine.” Dean’s eyes looked almost demonic, his pupils practically black with lust. “What’s the point? Why should I even try to be nice if it always ends this way? I might as well take what I want…”

The doctor has worked his pants around his thighs now, stroking his cock as he leans over Sam. Dean lines up and thrusts his fat cock into Sam’s right hole with little grace. The boy’s scream catches in his throat when Dean’s heavy hand locks around his neck. Sam yanked his arms towards his body but failed miserably to free them.

Sam gasps for air to fill his deprived lungs as Dean fucks into him. His heart is pounding in his ears and his vision begins to blur over. The car is nearly rocking from the sheer force of Dean’s motions.

Sam’s neck is sure to bruise as Dean grips even tighter. He chokes and gasps but it’s completely useless, Dean isn’t going to give in. His eyes feel heavy and for some reason like they’re going to bulge out from his head. It’s like his body is simultaneously feeling every sensation yet nothing at all. 

Sam can’t make out any words, but Dean seems to be able to read the desperate and scared look on his face. “I’m not going to kill you, baby.” He chuckled deeply, his expression possessive. “I just need to remind you who you belong too.”

Sam’s eyelids slip shut for a moment before he opens them again, only able to squint. Dean’s face is blurry above his, but Sam can make out a dark grin. “You’re mine.” Dean grunts out, thrusting his hips forward harshly.

Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. Sam’s eyes lazily follow Dean’s face until he no longer can. He can feel the doctors plump lips against his ear and the hand on his neck tightening. His whole body shivers as Dean speaks to him. “You’ll never forget who you belong to now.”

The gruff tone of Dean’s voice is the last thing Sam hears before his whole world fades to black.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s been months and I wish I had more to offer, but I’m openly admitting to my focus being on many other things. I haven’t been working on this series as much as I’d like to.
> 
> Anyway, I found this completed chapter in my wips that I wrote before I posted the hiatus announcement so I figured I’d post it for you guys.
> 
> I did remove the hiatus announcement to avoid confusion, but this fic is still on hiatus until I figure out what to do

Sam’s hands and knees scraped against the concrete walkway leading up to his house as he pushed himself up to his feet. He couldn’t recall how long he’d been out, all he knew was that the sky was pitch black. Sam has woken up outside, dumped out like garbage on the sidewalk in front of his house. However, unlike before, he was sure he had been with Dean. That much was clear to him. 

His legs were shaky as he climbed the two short steps up his porch. Sam squeezed his legs together nervously when he felt a stickiness between them. He knew what it was by now.

Sam took a shuddering gasp as he stumbled into the front door of his house. His father’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway and he couldn’t have been more grateful. The door slammed shut behind him and Sam wanted nothing more than to crumple to the ground, to just curl up in a ball and never leave the house again. 

Sam’s eyes were foggy with unshed tears as he pushed himself to walk onwards and into the bathroom. Sam looked at himself in the mirror and nearly gasped at his own reflection. A big, purplish-red mark was across his throat. He remembered it was from Dean, when the doctor locked his hand around Sam’s throat and squeezed until the boy passed out. 

Sam winced as he swallowed, registering the pain in his throat in full. With tremors in his hands he brought them to the edges of his shirt, which was inside out. Just as hastily as Dean had dressed him, Sam pulled his shirt from his body. 

His eyes widened and his hand shot to the sink faucet, turning it on and splashing water onto his cum stained belly and even his chest. Shame filled Sam further when he remembered that it had been from himself. 

When he managed to clean the white remains from his body, Sam reached to turn off the faucet and once again paused. He stared at his own wrists as he pushed the little handle. Just like on his neck, they were bruised. Not as severe as on his throat, but enough for them to be a throbbing red.

Sam choked back a cry of confused pain as he moved to undo his pants. They fell down his legs with ease and that’s when Sam noticed his boxers were gone. Dean must have forgotten to put them back on Sam’s unconscious body. Or more likely, he kept them.

The stickiness between his ass cheeks became even more prominent as Dean’s release dripped down between his thighs. Sam contemplated feeling himself back there, but decided against it. He didn’t want to feel any hands on him like that right now, not even his own. 

So instead he looked down to the throbbing bite mark on the inside of his thigh. The crescents of teeth were indented deep enough for blood to have drawn. He didn’t dare touch that mark either. 

Sam kicked his pants off from where they bunched around his ankles. The material dragged his shoes off with a little extra effort. Sam toed his socks off quickly then stepped into the shower soon after.

The water felt like ice as it cascaded down his body, it sent shivers down his spine. But Sam didn’t care, he’d bathe in a river and it would still make him feel cleaner than he did after what he had done. Again. 

The water always took a moment to actually become warm, but that didn’t stop Sam from lathering his body in soap and violently scrubbing with a washcloth. 

He kept scrubbing and scrubbing, but he couldn’t feel clean. He’d betrayed his best friend and a woman who was like a mother to him. Even when he tried to stop Dean, to do the right thing, it didn’t work out.

What if Dean was right? Maybe he really did enjoy it. He kept going back. Deep down inside him, maybe there was a part of him that liked what Dean inflicted upon him. There was something about being with Dean that was just so… easy. 

Sam didn’t have to be concerned with making choices for himself because Dean made them. Whether he protested or not, Dean would make up his mind for him in the end. 

The logical part of his brain knew something was wrong with him. He suspected it before, but now Sam was sure that he was sick. No, sick wasn’t the right word. Not the only word, at least. Sam knew he was just weak. He repeatedly did wrong to those he cared about and yet he couldn’t bring himself to end it with Dean. The doctor gave Sam approval when he got his way- approval that Sam so desperately needed. And yet the guilt still consumed him.

He felt guilty for Lisa. Sam didn’t deserve to have her in his life. She welcomed him into her home and Sam had gone behind her back to be with Dean. He felt guilty over Ben, too. They were best friends and yet Sam was a liar. Ben had asked questions and Sam had refused to answer. It was because he knew, even before he knew about Dean and Lisa, that he was doing something wrong.

Mostly, though, he felt culpable for Dean. The doctor admitted that Sam was the only one. Sam hated himself for corrupting Dean with his feelings. He must have done something to make Dean think of him that way. It had to be his fault, there was no other explanation Sam could come up with. 

He should have noticed sooner, back before it all started. Sam had always been so nice to the doctor, putting his best self forward in the man’s presence in a desperate hope for the affection to be returned. Sam forced his thoughts on Dean somehow, that had to be it. His own crush and desire had manifested itself inside of Dean like an infection because of him.

The water in the shower had turned hot, almost to the point of boiling. His skin had turned a light shade of pink before Sam even registered the burning sensation. Sam left his daze slowly, tilting his back and raking his fingers through his wet, shaggy hair. With a deep breath he finally brought himself away from his guilty mind and back down to Earth.

His brain was on autopilot after that, reaching for the shampoo and squeezing some into his hands and washing his hair. The water still beat down harshly on him, steam from the heat billowing around him. Sam clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth while forcing himself to endure the agony of the scalding water. He needed to wash away his sins, to scrub and burn the wrongfulness from his being. He wanted- no- needed to be purified.

Sam’s skin wrinkled from becoming waterlogged and that’s when he finally turned the water off. He stepped out of the shower, water droplets falling to the ground as he padded to the towel cabinet. 

The soft cotton was comforting as he wrapped around his body. It was a welcoming feeling, one he hadn’t become accustomed to lately. Sam left the bathroom with a feeling of serenity, but that didn’t last very long. 

The second that Sam stepped into his room, more memories resurfaced. Memories of sleeping on his floor because his bed felt unclean. Dean had explained to Sam what happened, but he was still overwhelmed with uneasiness. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It didn’t matter, though. Dean was right… Sam was sure he wouldn’t lie to him, not after everything they’ve done together.

Another wave of guilt rushed over him and Sam forced thoughts of Dean, Lisa, and Ben from his mind. Sam just had to keep Dean happy and Lisa and Ben would never have to find out.

Sam dressed quickly, pulling on his sleep clothes then running a brush through his hair. He sat the brush on his desk and looked around his nearly empty room mindlessly. Then Sam spotted something, a book, in the corner of his room.

The pages were askew, like the book had been messed with. Maybe he’d knocked it from his desk, but if that had happened it wouldn’t have made it that far. Sam faintly recalled watching it be thrown across the room, by who he wasn’t sure. Sam internally shook his head, he was overthinking a damn book being on the floor.

He lifted it from the ground, smoothing out the pages and even skimming through a few. He paused when he saw a highlighted sentence, something he’d done in class when he’d first been given the book by his teacher.

“For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” Sam muttered the phrase aloud. 

Everyone, whether they’ve read the book or not, knows how the story of Romeo and Juliet goes. Sam thought back to when he’d been reading in class, oddly enthralled by the chaotic love story. He’d pulled out a yellow highlighter in class and ran it across the disheartening sentence, finding something intriguing about it apparently. 

Sam didn’t remember why he had done it, but he had. It had meant something at the time, it must have. Sam closed the book and sat it back in its place on his desk and looked around his room. He could just go to sleep or maybe mess around on his phone, but neither seemed that appealing at the moment.

Sam could feel his stomach rumbling, which led him to the kitchen. The fridge was basically empty of food, most of the free space taken up by beer bottles. Sam was about to slam it closed when he noticed a plate wrapped in tinfoil stuffed in the back. Sam sighed in relief and reached for it, remembering that he had saved some pizza the last time he had it.

Sam watched boredly as the microwave lit up and hummed. He counted down in his head, watching the little clock tick down from 45 seconds. Sam was pulling it out and devouring the slice the moment the microwave beeped.

Sam really didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts and that’s when something else came into his mind. Sam reopened the fridge almost nervously as he recalled the way his own father forgot about his problems. Sam pulled a beer from the fridge and gripped the cap, turning at it with a struggle.

When he managed to snap the cap off, Sam lifted the bottle to his lips. He gagged at the taste of the beer, but forced himself to continue drinking. Sam hoped it would lessen the pain.

The sound of the door opening had Sam looking over his shoulder. His father came stumbling into view and Sam knew he was screwed. Sam could smell the alcohol radiating off of his father and Sam started to make his escape back to his room, trying to hide the bottle from view.

But John was quick on his feet despite the impairment. He gripped Sam’s bicep and pulled him so hard the bottle slipped from Sam’s grasp and shattered against the ground. “You gettin’ into my beer?” John growled, shoving Sam back against the fridge. He used his forearm against Sam’s chest to hold him back against the fridge. His other hand landed on the fridge beside Sam's head, pining and caging him.

“I- I’m sorry.” Sam shuddered, unable to meet his father's angry eyes. His father was silent for a long moment. Sam could feel John’s eyes scanning up and down. 

Then a deep chuckle sounded from John’s chest and Sam froze. “What the hell happened here?” His father drawled out, tugging down the collar of Sam’s shirt. Sam clenched his eyes shut as his father observed the bruise along his throat. 

Sam’s throat bobbed and burned as he swallowed. He was still unable to meet his father’s eyes. When Sam didn’t answer, John rolled his eyes. Then his hand snapped forward and locked around Sam’s neck over the bruise. Sam gasped and choked on air as his father squeezed. “Did I do this to you?”

Sam pushed his hands weakly against his father’s chest. John tilted his head, smirking at the fear that flashed in his son’s eyes.

Sam’s mind raced as oxygen left his lungs. He needed to get the hell out of this situation. Sam knew his father, he knew how ruthless he would be just for the fun of it when he was drunk. The smartest thing would be to tell the truth to get John to stop, but Sam couldn’t tell the truth. He couldn’t tell his father what Doctor Smith had done. He couldn’t betray Dean. 

Sam finally nodded weakly and John pondered over the answer. He must’ve believed Sam because he scoffed and finally released his son. Sam gasped desperately for air and slumped back against the fridge. Then in a flash John launched his fist forward. Sam cried out as the blow connected to his cheek just below his eye. “Stay the hell outta my beer, you punk.” John grumbled and stepped back, his boots crunching against the shattered glass as he left.

Tears leaked down Sam’s cheeks as he wheezed for air, his fingers prodding at the tender skin of his cheek. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with the other hand. It felt too tight all the sudden, like he was still being suffocated. Sam whimpered at pain blooming in both his neck and face.

Sam was careful to avoid stepping on the glass as he crouched to pick up the larger shards. His father would be even angrier if there was a mess on the floor in the morning. Sam managed to clean up all the big pieces and threw them into the trash. Then he found the broom, stumbling around the kitchen, sniffling and wiping at his blurry eyes. 

Sam swept up the glass and after he managed to make it to the bathroom. Sam looked in the mirror and winced. His cheek was already starting to bruise. He’d have to come up with some sort of excuse, but that still wouldn’t stop the humiliation and the stares. 

Sam splashed cool water on his face and took a shuddering breath. Sam made it back to his room and while he didn’t want to sleep before, now he just didn’t want to be awake. He curled up in his bed and sniffled, burying himself under his blankets as if he could block out the rest of the world.

Sam held his phone in his hand and opened his messaging app. He tried to click on Ben’s, but by accident he opened his messages with Dean. Sam read over the texts, smiling softly to himself at the words. ‘I’m thinking about you’ Sam’s eyes scanned over the sweet words. It was nice, knowing that at least someone thought of him. Sam held onto that hope that maybe someone cared about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is fuel for me to write more! I really do want to get back to this fic but I’ve been distracted and unmotivated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fills my spnkinkbingo square for ‘fingering’ on my tumblr, slut-for-Jared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to start by saying thank you to everyone who has been patiently waiting for this series. I will admit, I actually never intended for this to be more than a one shot. Then I felt there was more I could do with the story so I continued. After that I realized I had nowhere to go from what I had written because I had nothing planned. So I’ve been using this time to work out a plot line to follow, although I will admit my focus was mainly on other things. But I’m back to this fic, it has my full attention now, and ready to continue and I hope you guys are too. The way I’ve plotted this fic puts it at around 20 chapters (give or take a few)

Sam could hear blood pounding in his ears as he took heaving breaths. Coach had the entire team running suicides to prepare for the game the next day. Sam didn’t mind running, but he hated drills. His body ached and his face felt like it was on fire as sweat dripped from his hairline and into his eyes.

They’d been doing it for nearly ten minutes before Coach Singer finally blew his whistle. The other boys on the team as well as Sam all stopped running to gasp for air. One kid even dropped to the ground and rested on his back.

“Get some water, go change, and remember; we’ve got a big day tomorrow!” Coach Singer called out to the team before blowing into that ear piercing whistle again. “Winchester, can I talk to you for a minute?” The coach pulled Sam aside while the other kids followed the order and headed for the locker room.

“Yeah, coach?” Sam asked, brushing his fingers through his sweat dampened hair. 

“Noticed you got a shiner on your cheek and a pretty nasty mark on your neck.” Sam averted his gaze when the coach crossed his arms over his chest. “John give ‘em to ya?” Sam shook his head, but Coach Singer knew better. “I’m tired of seein’ you beat up, kid.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam muttered, dropping his head.

“You don’t need to be apologizing.” The coach sighed and shook his head. “It’s not your fault, you know that?” Sam looked to the man with furrowed brows, like he’d just spoken a different language. “You need to talk to someone… cops maybe.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. “No… I can’t. ” He said with a nervous shake of his head. Sam only had John, even if he hated it, he needed his dad. He didn’t want to end up in foster care and he didn’t want his dad to be in trouble. John would hate him.

“I called someone when I saw those.” Coach Singer gestured to the bruise on Sam’s cheek then to his neck. He looked over his shoulder to the locker room where the other boys were exiting. “Called your dad and told him I was keepin’ you late, too. Didn’t say why.”

“I- I’m really okay.” Sam promised vehemently. He glanced to where all the other boys were being picked up by their parents. Sam couldn’t help the small frown that crossed his lips, wondering what it was like to have a parent that actually behaved as such.

The crowd of kids and adults were pushing out of the double doors and that’s when something caught his eye. Someone was walking into the gym rather than out. A familiar face that seemed to be showing up everywhere Sam went these days.

“Hey, Bobby.” Doctor Smith waved with a grin to the coach as he approached. “Hey, Sam.” Dean said a bit softer than usual when he stopped in front of them.

“Doctor Smith here has started helping out during game season. Sprained wrists, twisted ankles, exetra.” Coach Singer explained.

“Eh, I’m just doing my job.” Dean shrugged to Bobby before locking eyes with Sam. “You want me to take a look at that?” Dean wondered, lifting his hand towards Sam’s face. Sam winced when fingers brushed over the bruise. He watched as Dean grit his teeth from the sight of the mark.

“Maybe you could talk him into reporting his son of a bitch father.” Bobby murmured to Dean and patted his shoulder. “I’ll let you two talk.” Then the coach was heading to the exit and Sam swallowed, looking to the ground.

“I should kill him.” Dean growled, forcing Sam to look back up. “Shouldn’t be damaging your pretty face.” Dean took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Is anyone still in the locker rooms?” Sam shook his head at Dean’s sudden question, unable to muster up any words. Then he allowed Dean to usher him towards the empty locker rooms. 

“Why’d he do that?” Dean voiced his curiosity when he closed and locked the locker room doors behind him and Sam.

“He saw the mark on my neck.” Sam muttered and Dean sighed. Sam frowned at the disappointed look on Dean’s face. “A- and he saw me with one of his beers.” He quickly added, taking a seat on one of the benches, shifting at the bit of pain in his ass.

“Why were you drinking?” Dean inquired, taking a seat beside Sam on the bench. Dean noted the way Sam shifted and almost bit his lip. 

“I only had a sip.” Sam muttered in defense. He really didn’t want Dean to be upset with him. Sam tensed when he felt a heavy hand run over his back. He lifted his gaze and turned his head to meet Dean’s green eyes.

“Why?” 

Sam swallowed and as he did, he rubbed at his throat. It was still sore, only amplified by the fact that his father had worsened the injury. “Why’d you leave me on the sidewalk in front of my house?” Sam asked in a shy, scared whisper. 

Dean took a breath as he contemplated his options. “I don’t know.” He made his expression shift into a frown and Sam ended up with one to match. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Are you mad at me?” Sam missed the way that Dean’s lip twitched into a small smirk before he forced the apologetic frown again. 

“Why would I be mad?” Dean moved his hand from Sam’s back to Sam’s shoulder. Then he gave a light squeeze.

“You always leave me.” Sam’s voice cracked as he hung his head. “I’m not good enough for anyone I guess.” Sam’s lip quivered as he clenched his eyes shut.

“What makes you think that?” Dean prodded further. Sam debated opening up to the Doctor, to tell the truth about that way that he felt. But Sam decided what he felt wasn’t important enough, he didn’t want to burden the older man with his problems. 

So Sam just shrugged instead, keeping his gaze lowered. Dean ran his tongue across his bottom lip when he saw Sam wipe at his eyes. “Hey,” Dean murmured, using his fingers to lift Sam’s chin. “Even if you think that you don’t matter to anyone else,” Dean paused, watching Sam’s expression as his words sank in. “You’re special to me.”

Sam felt his cheeks flush under Dean’s gaze. Dean was being gentle and kind with him, it made Sam’s heart race. Dean knew that, too. He knew how Sam ticked and how to influence him.

“Are you still sore?” Dean asked when Sam shifted again. It only made the young boy blush further, knowing that Dean had noticed. “I can help that if you want. Maybe make you feel a little better, make you forget.”

Sam took a deep breath and focused back on Dean. “I don’t wanna have sex.” He sounded a lot more confident in his mind than he did out loud. Dean cracked a little smirk of amusement and Sam sucked in a breath, waiting for the switch in Dean to flip.

“Okay.” Dean said simply and Sam furrowed his brows as he looked to the doctor. “I won’t fuck you.” Dean promised and Sam bit the inside of his cheek shyly at the crass words. “But I do wanna make you feel good. Remember our first time together?”

Sam nodded as Dean’s fingers brushed a strand of his hair away. “You’re gonna use your fingers?” Sam pieced it together and Dean hummed in agreement. 

Sam felt his heart give a little flutter at the thought. Sam didn’t mind, actually he liked it when Dean used his fingers. They weren’t nearly as long and thick as Dean’s cock so the stretch wasn’t too painful. Not to mention Dean was very skilled with them. 

“I guess that’s okay.” Sam muttered shyly under Dean’s intense gaze and the Doctor cracked a grin.

“You guess?” Dean mocked and Sam’s cheeks flushed pink. Dean’s fingers tucked beneath Sam’s chin and moved his head until their eyes met. “You can do better than that… ask me nicely.”

“Please?” Sam asked weakly after swallowing through the soreness in his throat. Dean just clicked his tongue and Sam feared he’d disappointed the man. “Please, Dean- sir- I want it.” Sam quickly corrected, begging with the sweetest puppy eyes. Dean almost groaned.

“Love how you sound.” Dean purred and pulled Sam to stand with him. Then Dean was moving, dropping to the ground and pressing his back to the gym lockers. “Come here, Sammy.” Dean extended his hand and Sam took it. He nearly stumbled when Dean yanked him to the ground.

“Easy,” Dean calmed when Sam gasped. Sam’s back pressed to Dean’s solid chest and he slumped back against the doctor, landing in Dean’s lap.

Then Dean spread his legs until Sam was comfortably between them. “Shorts off.” Dean ordered quickly and Sam rushed to follow through. He pushed them down his lanky legs then kicked them off, the light material easily falling down around and off his ankles.

“What if someone comes in?” Sam asked nervously when he started to push down his boxers. 

“No one will, trust me.” Dean said huskily against his ear and Sam shuddered, goosebumps rising over his skin. Sam nodded subtly and pushed his boxers down his thighs. His cock gave a twitch when Dean’s hands gripped his waist, then trailed to rub his stomach. Dean’s hands were surprisingly warm to contrast the cold of the locker room. 

Then one of the doctor’s hands wrapped around Sam’s cock. The younger boy moaned when Dean started to stroke his length. Sam shed his boxers, leaving him naked from the waist down. 

“Here, put your legs like this.” Dean instructed, using his free hand to grip under Sam’s knee. He pulled Sam’s leg over his own, spreading him open and keeping him that way. Sam followed through on his own with the other, his legs slightly quivering with the way Dean stroked his cock to hardness.

When Dean felt a dribble of precum leak from Sam’s tip, he smirked. “That’s a good boy.” Dean gave Sam the praise he so desperately needed, leading Sam to relax into his touch. It was exactly how Dean had wanted it.

Dean brought his free hand to Sam’s mouth, tapping two fingers against Sam’s lips. He parted them without hesitation, sucking Dean’s fingers into his mouth. “Good boy.” Dean praised, almost amazed at how well trained Sam had become. Sam sucked Dean’s fingers, hardly even gagging when they pushed knuckle deep into his mouth.

When Dean withdrew them, Sam gasped for air and from a jolt of pleasure that coursed through him. He couldn’t see from where he was behind Sam, but Dean could feel a line of saliva connecting from his fingers to Sam’s lips. The idea made Dean buck up against Sam’s ass, which then led the young boy to whimper.

Keeping one hand steadily stroking Sam’s cock, Dean’s other hand drifted lower. Dean’s spit slick fingers pressed to Sam’s rim when his hand settled between his ass cheeks. Sam gasped again when Dean started to push two in.

Sam moaned freely, rested his head back on Dean’s shoulder. “Feels good, sir.” Sam panted out without even having to be asked. Dean hummed in approval from behind, steadily working his fingers into Sam’s hole. It seemed no matter how many times they were together, Sam’s tight, young body still needed time to become accustomed to Dean’s intruding touch. 

Dean would be patient with him this time.

Dean started to thrust and curl his fingers in tandem with his other hand stroking Sam’s cock. The young boy’s legs started to shake as sparks of pleasure built. Dean used his own legs to keep Sam’s spread when Sam started to get fidgety. 

“You’re close already.” Dean observed in more of a statement. Sam nodded and whined when Dean easily found his sweet spot over and over, pressing and rubbing, drawing even more delicious sounds from the boy.

Dean wanted Sam a panting mess, covered in his own cum and dazed with pleasure. He had never really cared much about partners in the past, but there was something about Sam. He wanted to see all of it, to truly know how much pleasure he had inflicted upon Sam.

Just like he wanted, Sam’s moans and gasps of bliss echoed through the locker room. Dean pushed a third finger into Sam’s ass and started to work him harder, forcing his pleasure to the surface. The young boy’s cock was absolutely throbbing and dripping with precum, slicking the way for Dean to stroke him faster.

“Dean, sir, please-“ Sam panted out, his own hands frantically searching for something to grasp. He was getting closer and closer to his edge, Sam needed to be able to ground himself in a way. His palms landed on his own thighs, squeezing down as his head tipped back.

“That’s it.” Dean grunted against Sam’s ear, his own cock throbbing in his pants as he felt Sam’s ass clenching down around his fingers. “Cum like the good boy I know you are.”

Dean’s words combined with his thick fingers in Sam’s ass and his other hand wrapped around Sam’s cock sent the boy over the edge. Sam moaned in pleasure as his cock throbbed in Dean’s fist before he came. Dean watched over Sam’s shoulder the best he could as sticky, white cum shot from Sam’s tip and coated his fist.

Sam’s body tensed and quivered as he took breaths to calm himself. Dean, uncharacteristically gentle, withdrew his fingers from Sam’s ass and let his hand rest on his own thigh. Dean stroked Sam through his release until he finally relaxed. Sam slumped back against Dean’s chest, his eyes fluttering shut briefly as a feeling of relief washed over him. 

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked huskily, wiping Sam’s cum on the young boy’s own thigh.

“Good.” Sam admitted in a dazed sigh.

“Good.” Was Dean’s only response. Dean wanted Sam to be relaxed, to know the pleasure and serenity he could earn. Sam needed to know that Dean was the only one who could make him feel good. He wanted Sam to be completely dependent.

So, if that meant Dean had to sacrifice his own pleasure for Sam’s, he would. Only this time, though, and very reluctantly. 

Images of shoving Sam to his stomach and fucking into his tender ass hard and deep filled Dean’s mind. He bit his lip at the thought, but suppressed the urge. Just like he suppressed the urge to undo his belt and force his cock in between Sam’s pretty pink lips when he finally moved to stand.

Sam found his boxers and gym shorts on the ground shyly. Dean licked his lips as he watched Sam clean his own cum with his boxers, then put them back on. He then tugged his gym shorts back on and looked to Dean with a nervous smile and blushing cheeks.

“Thank you.” Sam said softly and Dean simply nodded, biting back a smile of pride. Sam suddenly pressed himself to Dean’s side, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist.

The doctor just grinned, tucking a possessive arm over Sam’s shoulders and pulling him closer. Sam relished in the embrace, not even remembering the last time he’d been touched so gently. 

“I’m always gonna take care of you.” Dean pulled away from the embrace, despite how much he knew Sam wanted to hold on. He’d give Sam little tastes of what he wanted, effectively keeping Sam hooked. Desperate, reliant, submissive, and everything in between. Dean wanted it all from Sam, for Sam to be his good little boy. And he knew the young boy would give him everything he wanted eventually, it would just take some work. Work that Dean was willing to put in to get exactly what he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is fuel for me to write more and comments only take a moment! 
> 
> While I am back to writing this fic, I figured I should ask you guys what you would prefer. So, would you rather I post the chapters as I write them? Or would you rather wait until the entire fic is done? I don’t mind either way, but I wanted to ask my audience <3
> 
> *!I’ll be going with the majority decision in the comments, so PLEASE make sure to let me know which you would prefer!*


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I’ve got a lot of other fics I’ve been working on since I now have 4 separate writing bingos to fill, but I haven’t stopped working on this fic! :)

“Dad, we won!” Sam beamed when he found his father climbing down the bleachers. “Dad?” Sam’s smile dropped and his heart froze in his chest when he saw the look John was giving him. 

“Let’s go.” John grunted briefly, his big hand reaching out to snap around Sam’s left wrist. He drug Sam through crowds of players and families, bypassing them all even as they congratulated Sam. Sam kept his eyes on the ground, gritting his teeth at the pain blooming in his wrist.

“What- what did I do?” Sam asked meekly when they made it out into the parking lot. “Dad-“ Sam whimpered in pain when John started to twist his wrist. They’d stopped by his father’s car and John shoved him back.

“You don’t get to brag about winning when you missed that shot.” John growled, watching as confused fear crossed his son's face. 

“I- I’m sorry! I tried!” Sam defended and his father just scoffed. Suddenly, John gripped Sam by the shoulder then shoved him to the ground. Sam barely had time to react. His outstretched hand landed on the rough concrete to hold himself up, but he fell onto it and cried out. The same wrist that John had twisted now ached with even more pain and Sam swore he heard a snap.

Their team had won mainly because of Sam, who made over half of the shots for the team, but Sam had missed a 3-pointer at the very end of the game. The team was up by over twenty points so it still was a big victory, but that apparently wasn’t enough for John. Sam realized that as he pushed himself up off of the ground with his other hand. He held his left arm against his chest and took a deep breath as if it would ease the waves of pain. 

“Get in the car.” John snapped at Sam and he climbed into the driver side. Sam sniffled and nodded, rushing around the car to get into the passenger's side.

“I’m sorry.” Sam muttered when John started the car and pulled out of the school parking lot.

“Don’t be sorry, be better.” John shot back with a glare directed at his son. Sam swallowed and looked out the window, slumping down in his seat, making himself look as small as he felt inside.

Nothing was ever good enough for John, Sam had learned that a long time ago, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. He still wanted his father to be proud of him. Sam wanted John to love him like a father rather than shame him for everything and use him as a punching bag. He was desperate for John’s approval and he wouldn’t let himself give up on trying to get it. 

So he responded with a simple nod and kept quiet for the rest of the ride. 

When they arrived home, John simply told Sam to get out. Sam barely had time to grab his gym bag before John sped off. He sighed to himself, knowing his dad was off to a bar. Sam tried not to think about it as he climbed up the porch steps and reached for the door with his good hand.

“Damnit.” Sam groaned when he realized the door was locked and his father had the keys. Sam didn’t know if it was on purpose, but Sam wouldn’t put it past his father to make sure he would be locked out. John had done it before, although that time it had been an accident. At the time Sam was 12 and scared of being outside alone at night, so he’d broken the window with a rock after John repeatedly ignored his calls.

That got a bottle thrown at him when his father came back. Then Sam was made to clean the glass with bare hands and feet. After that John had Sam fix the window on his own, even though John was more skilled and perfectly capable of doing the repair. Sam learned calling his father was pointless and to never try to get inside on his own again.

So, with a sad sigh and a frown, Sam sat down on the steps of his porch. It was completely dark out now, the nights coming sooner. Sam held his now bruised and possibly sprained wrist against his chest. It hurt like hell, but Sam refused to let himself cry. Even though his father wasn’t there to humiliate him for shedding a tear, Sam held back tears. He knew if they started then they wouldn’t stop for a long while.

Sam used his free hand to unzip and pull out his phone out of his bag. When he turned it on, Sam called the only person he knew he could actually trust at the moment. He wasn’t sure what else to do.

“Hey, Sam!” Ben answered, obviously in a good mood after the game win. Sam wished he could have enjoyed the victory too. “I tried to see you after the game, but I couldn’t find you!” Ben explained.

“Yeah, my dad wanted to leave early.” Sam lied, biting back a gasp of pain when he accidentally moved his injured wrist. It was absolutely throbbing with pain and Sam wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He really just wanted some pain killers and to sleep, but he couldn’t if he was stuck on his porch all night. “Do you think I could sleep over tonight?”

Ben went quiet over the phone and Sam knew he was already asking his mom. Ever since Ben and Lisa had learned about John’s abusive behavior, there was an unspoken agreement that Sam could go to the Braeden house whenever he needed. Sam was grateful for the small mercies in his life. 

“We can come get you now.” Ben informed and Sam sighed in relief. 

“Thank you.” Sam finally relaxed. At least he’d be able to go to bed knowing he wouldn’t wake up and be forced to deal with his father. Sam’s phone suddenly shut off and he pulled it away from his ear, frowning when he realized it had died.

Sam tucked it back into the bag and waited in silence. He tried to push aside thoughts of how his father had reacted. It seemed like an impossible quest, finally earning his father’s approval. After everything he had done to appease his dad, Sam thought things might start to change. He never bothered his dad, he got good grades, he joined the basketball team for his dad, and never went against John. It just never seemed to matter, though. Sam knew he’d never be good enough for his father to love.

A single tear slipped down his cheek as Sam dropped his head, but he quickly wiped it away. He took a deep inhale, counted to three, then finally exhaled. He wouldn’t cry. Sam wouldn’t fucking cry. His dad always said crying was a sign of weakness. Sam could practically hear his father mocking him already.

Minutes rolled by before Lisa’s car pulled up in front of Sam’s house. He quickly stood, grabbing his gym bag with his good hand and keeping his hurt arm tucked on his chest. 

“Congratulations on the big win!” Lisa greeted when Sam climbed into the backseat. Her kindness was always a warm welcome, completely opposite of the coldness his father showed him. 

“You did awesome tonight.” Ben joined in the praise and Sam thanked them both sheepishly. He was often taken aback by how normal it was for them to always be happy. They were both so caring and genuine, the only people who treated Sam with complete and utter kindness. It was such a foreign feeling to Sam, even after all this time. He never had to walk on eggshells around them or fear retaliation for any list of things. With the Braedens, Sam could pretend his life was normal. Although, that never lasted as long as he would like.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked and Sam snapped from his thoughts.

“Why?” Sam was on the defensive without thought. It had been a self-programmed reaction at this point. 

“Your wrist is all red and swollen... and the way you’re holding it...” Ben slowly came to the realization as he spoke, a hint of a frown crossing his lips. “Sam,”

“It’s fine.” Sam said before Ben could press further. He already knew Ben had figured it out, the sudden sleep over and the bruised wrist easily added up. They’d been in this scenario many times before; Sam asking to be picked up and for them to find him with some sort of injury. 

Sam could tell how badly Ben wanted to say or do something, but his friend kept his mouth shut. Ben knew he could never turn Sam on his father and he didn’t want to try to push Sam too far, even if he only wanted to help. Sam was in constant denial and Ben had learned to keep his mouth shut, not ever wanting to further Sam’s pain or humiliation with the topic.

“We can get you some ice, okay?” Ben offered when the car came to a stop in the Braedens driveway and Sam nodded.

“Sam,” Lisa started, following them out of the car. She’d obviously heard the conversation and now she’s become concerned. Sam hated himself for worrying them both. “Would you let me look at your wrist?” Lisa asked gently when she unlocked the house door and ushered them in.

“I guess so.” Sam said shyly after thinking over the offer silently. Lisa offered him a small, assuring smile as she guided Sam into the kitchen. Sam shot a glance to Ben, who was already announcing he needed to go shower. 

“The lights are brighter in here.” Lisa explained, pulling out a chair for Sam to sit. She turned it to face her own as she took a seat and looked up at Sam. “Oh, Sam…” she frowned with a combination of worry and sadness when she saw the state of his wrist.

“It- it doesn’t hurt that bad.” Sam lied quickly when he saw the look on her face. He didn’t want her to be upset over him. “I’ll just sleep it off.” 

“Sleep it off? Sam, hon, no.” Lisa shook her head and reached for Sam above the elbow. Thankfully his bicep was in no pain, but when she had him straighten out his arm, Sam winced. “You need a Doctor. This… your wrist could be sprained or god forbid broken.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam dropped his head, missing the look of heartbreak that crossed Lisa’s face. He couldn’t meet her gaze, knowing he’d caused so much trouble for her. 

“I’m going to get you some ibuprofen and then I’m going to call Dean. He’d know how to help better, alright?” Lisa asked, although she was already moving into action. Sam swallowed thickly at the mention of Dean, but nodded nonetheless. He told himself he could handle whatever awkwardness or tension that came from being around Dean as long as his wrist could get fixed up. Sam’s main focus was on wanting the constant, throbbing pain to stop. 

“Thank you.” Sam said softly, finally lifting his head to accept the medication Lisa offered. She brought him a glass of water and Sam took the pills quickly, hoping they would kick in soon.

“You wanna talk about what happened?” Lisa asked cautiously. She always made sure to be gentle with the topic, never wanting to embarrass Sam or upset him. In the beginning she had tried to get Sam to find help, but she understood when Sam confessed his fear of going into a foster home at such a young age. Seeing Sam still locked under his father’s control after all this time still made Lisa sick, but as much as it kept her awake at night, she respected Sam’s wishes.

“Not really.” Sam confessed and she nodded at the expected answer. 

“Well, have you eaten?” Lisa changed the topic after a moment of silence. 

“You don’t have to-“ 

“I’m offering, Sam.” Lisa cut him off. “Now, have you eaten?” She asked again and Sam shook his head no. “We had fried chicken before we left for the game and there’s plenty left. I could heat up some for you.”

“Only if you don’t mind.” Sam bit his lip nervously and Lisa just offered another reassuring smile. Sam watched as she moved to get the food ready and Sam swore he felt his stomach growl. It was then that he realized he hadn’t eaten since the morning. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Lisa responded to Sam’s politeness as she retrieved a plate from the cabinet. 

Lisa excused herself to call Dean after giving Sam the food. Sam felt his cheeks flush, knowing she would be on the phone with Dean. The doctor already knew about John, but Sam still felt embarrassed at the idea of Lisa telling Dean about the incident.

As Sam ate, he pushed away those thoughts and focused on the food in front of him and his wrist. The throbbing in his wrist seemed to lessen. It still hurt like hell, but now it was slightly more bearable. Sam had finished by the time Lisa returned and was already at the sink, attempting to wash the plate.

“You,” Lisa took the plate from Sam’s working hand. “Go lay down. Relax.” She gave him the ‘mom look’ as Ben called it and Sam knew there was no room to debate. She was looking out for him and Sam knew that, but Sam still didn’t want to be a complete burden. As he moved to the couch, Sam internally cursed himself for causing more trouble than he was worth. 

Sam turned on the tv after asking Lisa if it was alright. She told him there was no need to ask, but Sam had wanted to make sure. The first channel that appeared when he clicked the tv on was some procedural cop show. A woman with a bruise on her cheek was talking to a cop and Sam quickly switched the channels. He hated shows like that, never ready to admit they hit too close to him. 

Sam settled on a teen drama, something about high school kids and murder mysteries. He had never seen it before, but it was better than nothing. Sam often used television shows as a distraction from his real life, although now it was just a background noise as he allowed his eyes to flutter shut from exhaustion. 

“Sam?” Lisa shook his shoulder gently and Sam snapped his eyes open. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he glanced at the clock above the tv he realized nearly thirty minutes had passed. “Dean’s here to take a look at your wrist.” 

Sam tried to say ‘okay’, but what came out was a yawn. Lisa chuckled lightly and looked over her shoulder. 

“You can stay on the couch, but you’re gonna have to sit up.” Dean’s unmistakable voice came from behind Lisa and Sam reacted. He sat up on the couch quickly, as if Dean had ordered him. The doctor pulled up one of the ottomans and used it as a chair, taking his place across from Sam. 

Sam allowed Dean to touch his arm, bending it out straight in front of him. Dean did a few little tests, poking, prodding, and then asking Sam where it hurt the most. Sam has tried to avoid Dean’s eyes, but he could practically feel them burning into him. Sam dared a glance when Dean looked away, only to realize that Dean was looking at Lisa. He raised his brows and nodded his head towards the other room, signaling for Lisa to leave.

The second she left, Dean’s whole demeanor changed. He was practically snarling and he leaned in close. “Did John do this to you?” Dean growled and Sam’s mouth went dry. 

“It- it was my fault-“ Sam started to explain meekly, but Dean cut him off. 

“I asked you if your garbage father did this. Answer me, yes or no?” Dean sneered, his teeth gritting because he already knew the answer, even before Sam’s cheeks reddened and he nodded. 

Dean was practically seething and Sam swore he’d never seen such a deadly look on the man. He eyed Dean wearily, trying to decipher what was going on in his head. But Dean, despite the evident anger, still managed to be mysterious. Sam swallowed through the lump in his throat, knowing if he couldn’t pinpoint what Dean was thinking then he couldn’t respond accordingly. Sam has no idea how to appease the man and it made his heart stutter in anxiety.

“I’m sorry.” Sam went for his go-to, but that only seemed to make things worse. A flash of something frightening appeared in Dean’s eyes and Sam‘s lip quivered. He just wanted to make it better, he didn’t want Dean mad because of him. He wanted to make Dean happy. “Sir-“ 

“Stop it.” Dean spit out, cutting Sam off from his second attempt. “Just-“ Lisa reappeared in the room before Dean could continue. It was like a switch flipped inside of the Doctor. He rid his face of all previous emotion and sat back up straight. Sam was in near disbelief, but then again he knew how Dean had a tendency to slip back and forth between personas. 

But the anger Sam had seen in Dean’s eyes… he knew that was real. Raw emotion that Dean couldn’t hide behind his mask.

“From what I can see, it’s only sprained.” Dean told Lisa casually, reaching into the medical kit he’d brought with him. “We’ll get his wrist wrapped and set, but an x-ray would be safest.”

“Makes sense.” Lisa agreed, a comforting hand from her landing on Sam’s shoulder. Sam dropped his head to hide a wince of pain as Dean wrapped a long bandage snuggly around his wrist. He missed the way Dean’s eyes snapped to Lisa’s hand touching Sam. 

Dean used the whole roll of the medical bandage, making sure to wrap it precisely around securely around Sam’s wrist and his hand. “That feel okay?” Dean wondered and Sam lifted his hand. He observed the bandages and wiggled his fingers. The temporary cast was a little stiff and tight, but Sam assumed it was meant to be like that.

“Thank you.” Sam expressed his gratefulness with a shy smile and Dean just nodded.

“I’ll grab you some pillows and blankets.” Lisa told Sam before heading off to the spare closet down the hall. 

“I’m fucking sick of seeing that that man laid his hands on you.” Dean hissed the second Lisa was out of sight and Sam’s eyes went wide. “There’s more than enough evidence that could get him put away-“

“No!” Sam jumped in and Dean stopped talking. He looked at Sam with an unreadable expression, his only indication being his eyebrows furrowing. “You can’t get my dad in trouble.” Sam said much quieter than before.

“And why the hell not?” Dean snapped back. “He’s a no good drunk who hits his kid.” Sam looked away at that comment, but Dean pressed his fingers to Sam’s cheek to turn him back. 

“He’s still my dad. You can’t get him arrested because then I- I-“ Sam couldn’t think of a reason to defend his father. He just didn’t want his dad, his only family, to hate him forever. “Just don’t, please.” Sam begged pathetically. 

“Okay, okay,” Dean hushed Sam, his night hands landing on the young boy’s knees. Sam took deep breaths to calm himself, eyes shining with unshed tears of anxiety. “As much as it irks me, I won’t turn him in… only because you asked me.” Dean lifted a hand, his thumb stroking a stray tear from Sam’s cheek. “But you need to assure me of something, Sam.”

“Anything.” Sam said quickly, pleading eyes still locked on the older man. 

“You stay here. You stay here and away from that piece of shit.” Dean stated firmly, gauging Sam’s reaction. “Understood?” Dean asked when Sam’s throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously.

“The longest I’ve been able to stay is a weekend. Usually my dad drags me back home…” Sam took a shaky breath. “He gets bored when I’m not there to pick on.” Sam said in a whisper of honesty and Dean clenched his fists, but forced himself to not react.

“Then you stay here as long as you can. Don’t go back to your house.” Dean reiterated and Sam nodded, averting his eyes away from the intensity of Dean’s gaze. “You stay here and away from him.”

“Here’s everything you need for tonight.” Lisa said cheerily as she returned with a stack of pillows and blankets in her arms. “There’s a pair of Ben’s pajamas that you can borrow to sleep in. If you need anything else, you know to just let me know.” She told Sam as she set the comfort items on the couch beside him, although they both knew that Sam wouldn’t dream of it. Sam already felt like a burden, he didn’t want to disturb Lisa anymore, even if she told him it wasn’t like that at all.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Sam smiled up at her, finding the clothing and standing to go change. He really needed a shower, but with the freshly bandaged wrist, Sam decided against it. He didn’t trust himself to be careful enough to keep it dry. 

Sam heard Dean mutter something to Lisa, then Lisa agreeing. After that he heard her ask Dean to stay the night, but Sam didn’t stick around for the rest. For the first time in a while, he was too tired to think about Dean or Lisa and the mess he had caused. All Sam wanted was to put on comfortable clothes and then go get the first goodnight’s sleep he’d be having after many days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are nice, but comments are amazing! Even just a few words can be so motivational and inspire me to write more


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine has been killing my motivation, but I finally finished another chapter so I had to post <3

Sam had been staying at the Braeden’s for nearly four days and it was like living in a different world. Sleeping soundly at night and waking up to breakfast in the morning was always a relief for Sam. No one stank of beer and they certainly didn’t push him around for the fun of it. Being around people who cared about him was a whole new experience that Sam wished he hadn’t missed out on for so very long.

Sam actually made it to school on time when Lisa drove him and Ben. He was in a much better mood in the morning, but then he would get to school and people would ask about the cast around his wrist. At one point Sam forgot his cover story, so he came up with a different excuse, and when that circulated through the small school, people started talking. The whispers and the embarrassment would never end.

By the time he was picked up alongside Ben, Sam was all slouched shoulders and hidden frowns. Ben would try and cheer him up and Sam would indulge him, pretending to laugh at whatever random jokes Ben made.

It was better back at the Braeden house after school, much less chaotic. Sam could only handle so much these days and he was glad Ben and Lisa realized that. After school he studied or played video games with Ben. He wished everyday could’ve been like the past few ones.

Dean usually showed up right when Lisa finished cooking dinner. She always had everyone sit at the dinner table, which Sam didn't mind, but it became increasingly uncomfortable when Dean would shoot him smirks or winks while Lisa cozied up beside him. Sam was thankful for her obliviousness.

Being around Dean, Lisa, and Ben at the same time was often overwhelming. Sam could barely keep up with conversation, terrified that suddenly he and Dean would outed. He knew that there was no way the Braeden’s could’ve known, but it still made anxiety bubble up. He didn’t want to ruin anything, but part of it was also selfish. He wanted to keep Lisa’s affection, his friendship with Ben, and his relationship with Dean all at once. 

After dinner everyone would go their separate ways. Ben wanted to be the first to shower and inevitably used up all the hot water while Lisa cleaned up. Sam tried to help with the dishes more than once and she all but banished him to the couch. Dean would end up on the couch right beside him, his hand resting on Sam’s thigh as they watched tv in silence. It was almost a routine.

That was the most Dean touched him since he’d unofficially moved in. Sam could never explain the confusing need to have Dean when he was away, while simultaneously wanting to distance himself when Dean came close.

When it would get late and Dean would go to bed with Lisa was when it hit Sam the most. He needed Dean when he couldn’t have him, then in the mornings when Dean would sneak glances or even a small grope, Sam would avert his gaze or jump away. Maybe Dean had been right before, Sam had no idea what he wanted. That’s why he always let Dean take it.

Dean couldn’t do that with Lisa hovering, though. He was itching to get his hands on Sam. Thankfully Ben and Lisa couldn’t tell, but Sam could. He could see the raw hunger across Dean’s face when their eyes met.

Sam had been sleeping on the couch during his stay with the Braeden’s. Usually when he would only stay for the weekend, Sam and Ben would both sleep out on the couch. It was a lot different now that it seemed like Sam was going to be staying longer. Lisa had been firmly against the boys both sleeping in the living room because she knew they’d stay up watching tv. At least Ben would, so Lisa made sure he stayed in his room. 

Usually Sam slept comfortably, but for some reason he kept waking up tonight. He tossed and turned, but couldn’t get settled. Sam sat up with a huff, kicking off his blanket and planting his socked feet on the ground. 

He tried to swallow, but his throat felt insanely dry. Sam stood from the couch and shuffled into the kitchen as silently as possible- he didn’t want to wake anyone up. Sam, ever so quietly, found a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water, forgoing ice so the fridge wouldn’t make more noise. 

After sipping the water, Sam decided to use the bathroom before he tried to sleep again. When he locked the door behind himself, Sam flicked on the light and looked in the mirror. He couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t have dark circles beneath his eyes. The swelling from the bruise on his face had mostly gone away as well, at least enough to not be noticed unless you looked close. Sam hardly recognized himself.

Things were looking up for him, but Sam also knew it wouldn’t last. Nothing good ever lasted for him. His dad would show up at some point- it was a miracle that it hadn’t happened sooner. John would turn up and ruin everything, it was inevitable.

Sam sighed to himself and turned away from the mirror. After using the bathroom, Sam washed his hands and headed out, flicking off the light on his way. He moved into the kitchen and grabbed his glass. Sam sipped it again and finished off the water before placing the glass in the sink. He’d wash it in the morning before anyone else woke up. He hated creating a mess, if he was at home his father would’ve smashed the glass if he saw it. 

Sam then looked to the couch and he furrowed his brows. He squinted and looked closer, sure that someone was on it. Sam must’ve been gone from the couch longer than he thought if someone else could make it out there. Maybe Ben had gotten up, but the TV wasn’t on...

A soft groan fell from the person and that’s all it took for Sam to realize that it was in fact Dean. Sam crept closer, not daring to speak up. He didn’t want his voice to carry through the house. 

Dean, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share Sam’s concern. “Was wondering where you went.” Dean mused when Sam crossed over to the front of the couch. 

Sam’s voice caught in his throat and his stomach clenched when Dean shot him a grin. It was dark in the room, but his face was illuminated by light from his cellphone. It was thanks to that light that Sam could see what Dean was doing. 

The doctor had his phone in one hand and the other wrapped around his cock. Dean’s sleep pants were pushed down just enough and he stroked himself slowly. “C’mon, sit down.” Dean said a bit quieter now that Sam was close.

Sam swallowed through the lump in his throat and nodded. The second Sam sat down, Dean released his cock in favor of wrapping his arm around Sam and pulling him closer. 

“Missed you.” Dean hummed, leaning down to press a kiss to Sam’s head before inhaling deeply. “Smells like coconut.” 

“It’s Lisa’s shampoo.” Sam muttered, unsure of what else to say. He was already getting lost in the closeness to Dean. 

“Suits you better.” Dean commented, pulling away. Sam offered a small smile as thanks and Dean chuckled softly. Sam didn’t ask why, though. He was becoming distracted by the glaring light on Dean’s phone.

Dean followed Sam’s gaze and a wicked smirk crossed his lips. “You wanna see? You wanna see what made me so hard that I had to come out here and see you?” Dean questioned with a knowing tone and Sam nodded shyly. 

Sam accepted Dean’s phone when he handed it over and gasped at the picture. “This is me.” Sam realized, his wide, horror filled eyes flicking up to Dean’s face. Dean was failing at biting back a smirk and Sam tore his eyes away and looked back to the picture. 

Clear as day on the screen, Sam could see his own face with Dean’s thick fingers stuffed into his mouth. His eyes were hooded and his cheeks were flushed. His hair was a mess and the pillow beneath his head was white, but that’s all Sam could see. “I don’t remember this.” Sam admitted nervously after searching through memories.

Sam didn’t see the wide grin that crossed Dean’s face. “That’s alright.” Dean reverted his expression back to casual when Sam glanced up at him again, none the wiser.

“You have to delete this.” Sam tapped the screen as panic suddenly rose. “No one can see this.” Sam shook his head slightly, his heart suddenly racing. He could not let that picture be seen or get out somehow. Everyone already judged him and talked about him behind his back enough, he didn’t need fuel to be added to the fire of his humiliation.

“Don’t you dare!” Dean ordered louder than he intended. Sam’s finger hovered over the little garbage icon, but before he could think to tap, Dean snatched the phone away. Sam turned to meet Dean’s face and he knew the older man was angry with him. Dean clenched his jaw, his fingers digging into Sam’s bicep where he gripped him to his side.

“I’m sorry.” Sam already started to plead and took a shaky breath. Dean hadn’t sought out Sam to frighten him, and yet he couldn’t help but leave Sam hanging for a second. Dean loved the desperate, begging look across the young boy's face. His hazel puppy eyes and pouty lips made Dean’s cock twitch from where it was still free. 

“I know you are, Sam.” Dean finally revealed and Sam sighed softly in relief. “Just… how about you help me out?” Dean acted as he spoke, setting the phone aside to grab Sam’s good wrist. Dean guided Sam’s hand to his lap and after that, Sam knew what to do. Dean practically purred at how well trained the young boy had become. 

Sam’s slender fingers wrapped around the doctor’s cock. He looked to Dean for approval and when he got a nod, Sam started to run his hand up and down Dean’s length. “That’s a good boy.” Dean praised, bucking his hips up, fucking his cock into Sam’s hand a bit faster. 

“Lick your hand.” Dean groaned out and Sam nodded slightly. Sam brought his hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue across his palm, his cheeks flushing pink under Dean’s lustful gaze. 

Dean didn’t have to tell Sam to get back to work, the young boy knew what to do. He wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock and started to stroke once more. Dean used his arm over Sam’s shoulders to hold him close. 

Dean then leaned down, burying his face in Sam’s neck. Sam shivered when he felt Dean inhale deeply, but didn’t let his actions falter. He had already upset Dean once when he tried to delete the picture, he wanted to remind the doctor that he was a good boy. Sam could give him pleasure and obey, just like Dean wanted. Sam would give Dean anything he wanted.

Every grunt and groan that Dean silenced against Sam’s neck acted as encouragement. Sam worked his hand over Dean’s hard cock to the best of his ability, and by the sounds Dean made, it was working. 

Just as Sam started to relax into it, Dean whispered out; “stop.” Sam froze, lips already twisting into a worried pout when Dean pulled away. “Take your pants off.” Dean huffed out, the arousal in his tone evident. 

Despite the anxiety racing through Sam’s mind about how risky this would be, he didn’t voice it. Sam kept his concerns to himself and he lifted his hips from the couch and pushed his sleep pants down his legs. He swore he heard Dean moan when his semi-hard cock sprung free.

“Not wearing underwear and getting hard just from touching me? I think I hit the jackpot tonight.” Dean’s praising tone washed over Sam, bringing a soft smile of pride to the young boy’s face. He’d done something right and Dean was happy about it. “You look cute in your big shirt and nothing else.” 

Dean looked over his shoulder toward the hallway that led to Lisa’s and Ben’s rooms. Sam swallowed through the lump in his throat, wondering if Dean was going to realize how bad of a plan this was. They’d get caught, Sam just knew it. He’d been so lost in Dean’s praise that he briefly forgot how scared he was, but that anxiety was coming back.

Sam almost spoke up, but then Dean looked back at him with the smallest hint of a smile. “C’mere.” Dean exhaled, pulling Sam into his lap. Sam lost balance and fell forward, his chest pressing to Dean’s as his folded legs rested on either side of Dean’s. 

“Are you gonna… y’know?” Sam pulled himself to sit up, his bottom resting on Dean’s thighs, his own cock brushing against Dean’s. The little spark of friction made Sam quiver.

“Am I gonna do what?” Dean said in a teasing tone. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Are you gonna put it in me?” Sam squeaked out, his face burning with warmth. 

Dean chuckled in response, his big hands locking around Sam’s narrow waist. “Yeah, yeah I am.” He pulled Sam forward and lifted him until he could press the tip of his cock to Sam’s tight little hole.

Dean left one hand on Sam’s hip while moving the other to wrap around his own cock. He pulled Sam down and pressed the tip of his cock into Sam’s ass, causing the young boy to whimper.

“I’m not ready.” Sam hissed out at the stretch before he could stop himself. “Do you have lube?” He didn’t want Dean to be upset, but Sam also knew if he had to fuck Dean dry he wouldn’t be able to hold in sounds of pain and discomfort. Sam was still horrified by the idea of being caught. 

Dean growled from deep in his chest, his hand leaving his cock in favor of gripping Sam by the chin. Dean observed the young boy for a long moment, noting the way his eyes kept flicking to the hallway and the way he bit the inside of his cheek. 

Dean was far too impatient to assure Sam or talk him through it. He’d waited too damn long to get his hands on Sam, he wasn’t going to just stop because Sam was scared. “Get down on my cock,” Dean grit out, making a point to look over his shoulder before turning back to face Sam. “Or I’ll fuck you until you’re screaming so loud that you wake them up.” That got through, Dean saw the fear flash in Sam’s eyes. “You gonna be good for me?”

“Yes, sir.” Sam whispered out, his body quivering as he tried to lower his hips. He’d only taken the throbbing head of Dean’s cock, but it had been a while and there was nothing to slick the way. His rim felt on fire, but that wasn’t going to deter the doctor from continuing, so Sam kept his pain to himself the best he could.

“Try and keep quiet. We’ll do this quickly.” Dean spoke slowly, not sure how present Sam truly was. Sam snapped out of his daze when Dean dropped his chin and covered his mouth. “Take my cock like the good boy I know you are.” 

That’s all Sam needed to hear because soon he was taking a deep breath through his nose and dropping his hips. Another inch pushed inside dry and Sam’s whimper was muffled by Dean’s palm. His brows furrowed in discomfort, but Dean paid no mind.

“Keep going, Sam. I’m already so close, it’s been too long.” Dean encouraged, bucking his hips up and giving Sam’s hip a squeeze. The young boy took another breath through his nose before pressing down further. Dean failed at muffling his own groan of pleasure as Sam screamed into his hand, forcing himself to take the last few inches of Dean’s thick cock in one go.

“So good, baby boy.” Dean grunted out, giving his hips a little shove up. Sam whined into Dean’s hand, signaling his discomfort. Dean didn’t care too much, though. Dean was so close to his edge, he had been for days, not allowing himself to use Lisa the way he usually did. No, Sam was close, he was here with Dean and accessible. Dean couldn’t comprehend wasting his time on a poor replacement when he had the real thing he truly wanted. 

“You gonna be quiet if I uncover your mouth?” Dean raised a brow and Sam nodded weakly under his hand. That was good enough for the doctor and he removed his hand. Sam fell forward almost instantly, hands landing on Dean’s shoulders for some sort of sturdiness.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m so close already. I've been saving this for you, I want you nice and full, baby boy.” Dean panted out and Sam made a mewling sound, dropping his face to bury in Dean’s neck. “Just rock your hips for me, okay? Make that tight little hole squeeze my cock.” 

Panting against Dean’s neck, Sam started to rock his hips back and forth. When he intentionally made his body clench around Dean’s cock, Sam whimpered and he was sure his face was burning red.

The pathetic sound Sam made combined with his tight, warm hole around Dean’s cock pushed his over the edge. He gave no warning, instead he bucked his hips up and let his head fall back. The doctor clenched his jaw to muffle a deep moan as rope after rope of warm, sticky cum filled Sam’s insides. The young boy gasped, clinging to Dean. Sam’s ass squeezed Dean’s cock, milking him for everything he had like Dean intended.

“There’s so much.” Sam whined when he shifted his hips. Sam could actually feel Dean’s cum coating his insides, being locked in by Dean’s thick cock. He’d never felt so full in his life.

“I told you,” Dean huffed out, taking slow breaths to regain himself. “I’ve been saving it all for you.” Dean slapped his hand playfully against Sam’s ass. Sam gasped and jumped slightly in surprise, only for Dean to force him back all the way down onto his cock. “Just sit for a minute, it’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.” 

Sam lifted his head to look at Dean, his heart skipping a beat at that cocky smirk. “Okay.” Sam agreed, trying his best to relax. It was difficult, though, with Dean’s entire length and his cum filling Sam up. Usually the older man would’ve pulled out by now, giving Sam a break and the ability to recover from the thick stretch, but that wasn’t the case tonight.

Sam couldn’t help the way his body reacted to Dean being inside of him. Just as he allowed himself to rest on Dean’s chest, Sam felt his cock twitching to full hardness between his legs. He wanted to reach down and touch, to give himself the same relief he’d just witnessed in Dean. But, Dean has decided to wrap his arms around Sam to keep him in place, making it nearly impossible for Sam to maneuver his hand down to his cock.

Dean had relaxed, his chest slowly rising and falling as he rested back against the couch. “You’re so warm inside. Feels nice.” Dean muttered and if Sam hadn’t been so incredibly horny, he would’ve been grateful for the praise. Sam was too busy thinking about how to get off. He knew he didn’t need a hand on himself to orgasm, Dean had made him cum with just his cock in Sam’s ass. Sam wanted that more than anything right now.

Ever so subtly, Sam began to rock his hips again, grinding down, hoping that would be enough to push him over the edge. It wasn’t even close.

Sam couldn’t see the smirk that crossed Dean’s face from where his head was resting on the older man’s chest. “You wanna cum, don’t you?” Sam nodded frantically against Dean’s chest at the question, gasping when Dean’s cock twitched inside of him. “I never told you that you could move.”

The whimper that fell from Sam’s lips is what made Dean lift his head. When he moved to sit up straighter, Sam was moved to. They met eye to eye, Dean’s full of lust and Sam’s full of need.

“You feel so good, Sam… tight ass pumped full of cum and keeping my cock warm.” Dean praised, knowing the effect it had on Sam. “God, Sam, I’ve been thinking of filling you up for days, knowing how perfect it would feel. There’s nothing hotter than watching my cum spill out of your needy little hole after I’ve pumped you full.” 

“Sir, please,” Sam clenched down around Dean, trying his hardest to keep still like Dean said. “Touch me.”

“You’re in no place to be making demands.” Dean said calmly, smirking at the pathetic whimper that came from Sam after. “I thought you “weren’t ready”.” Sam wished Dean wouldn’t use his own words against him.

“I can take it, I can,” Sam panted out, trying to move subtle enough for Dean to not notice. Of course it failed and he didn’t get nearly enough friction for it to bring any pleasure to outweigh his frustration. “Please.”

“You sound so pretty when you beg.” Dean purred, raising a hand from Sam’s back to stroke through his brunette locks. “You sure you want it?”

“Yes, Dean, sir, please-“ Sam’s cock was absolutely throbbing between his legs, needy for attention and about to burst. 

“I’ve gotcha, Sammy.” Dean grinned wickedly, slapping a hand over Sam’s mouth before maneuvering both of their bodies. Sam fell back against the couch with a muffled “umph-“ and Dean hovered over him, cock still deep inside of his ass. 

Dean pulled his hips back and thrust forward hard, making Sam yelp into his hand. The cum acted as lube, slicking the way Dean as he continued to thrust, picking up the pace.

Hard and fast, Dean fucked his hips forward, burying his cock deep in Sam’s ass before pulling back. Sam was panting against Dean’s sweaty palm, his hips canting down to chase Dean’s cock as his own erection bobbed between his legs. He was already so close, the painful stretch of Dean’s cock long forgotten when it brushed against his prostate.

Dean made sure to hit Sam’s sweet spot again and again, knowing he was testing his luck with fucking Sam after already coming so much. Dean decided he would make this fast and get Sam off while he was still hard. After all, Sam has been a good boy tonight. He deserved a treat. Not to mention that Dean would be lying if he said he didn’t love the intense look of pleasure on Sam’s face and the way his body squeezed Dean’s cock when he finished.

Sam screamed into Dean’s hand as he came suddenly, his body quivering in that exact intense pleasure Dean wanted to see. His eyes clenched shut and his scream turned into a long moan as his cock spurted white, sticky cum all over his t-shirt covered belly. Sam couldn’t care less about the inevitable stain, instead he was far too focused on the waves of pleasure that coursed through his body as he came down from his peak. 

Sam was too lost to feel Dean spill another load of cum into his ass. He hardly felt it when the older man pulled out, his whole body buzzing in the aftershocks. Cum gushed from Sam’s used hole and Dean groaned at the sight, prodding his fingers at Sam’s sensitive rim. Dean kept his hand covering Sam’s mouth when he pushed down on his belly, encouraging more cum to drip from his hole.

“Fuck, you look so perfect like this.” Dean licked his lips, pulling his hand away from Sam’s mouth. The young boy gasped for air, wide eyes watching Dean and he stood. Dean pulled his pajama pants up and then scooped his phone up from the couch.

“Since you tried to delete my favorite picture, I think it’s only fair I get another one.” Dean reminded Sam of his discretion, taking advantage of his worn out state. “Grab under your knees and pull them up. Show me how pretty my cum looks dripping out of that sweet ass.” 

Sam’s chest rose and fell heavily, his head spinning as he nodded weakly. Sam tucked his hands under his knees like he was told and lifted his own legs, spreading them apart. Sam revealed himself to the older man, giving him a perfect view of his hole dripping cum and his cock resting against his belly.

Sam closed his eyes right after the phone’s camera flashed, the light far too bright. “Good boy.” Dean complimented, switching back and forth between the photo on the phone and the real scene in front of him.

Sammy, with his flushed cheeks and rustled hair, holding his own legs open for Dean, cock limp against his belly, covered in his own cum and Dean’s dripping from his abused hole, in nothing but socks and a big shirt… Dean swore he’d never seen anything so appetizing. 

“I think I like this one a hell of a lot better.” Dean commented, clicking his phone off. Dean moved back onto the couch, crawling between Sam’s spread legs to hover over him. “Now, how about you give me a kiss and thank me?”

Sam didn’t hesitate, lunging his lips up to capture Dean’s. His hands left his legs and tangled into Dean’s hair. Dean took control quickly, pulling a moan from Sam as his tongue explored the young boy’s mouth with dominance. The older man left Sam a panting mess by the time he nipped at his bottom lip and pulled away. 

“Thank you, sir.” Sam managed to get out breathlessly. A smirk tugged at Dean’s lips as he sat up. 

Dean stood and before he walked away, he found Sam’s sleep pants and tossed them to the boy, letting them land between his legs. “You might wanna clean yourself up.” He shot Sam a wink then turned away. “Goodnight, Sammy.” Dean called back, leaving Sam a mess in the dark, sleep the furthest thing from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is awesome, I’d love to know what my readers think about the story so far :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it’s been a while.. but here’s the next chapter <3

Sam waited anxiously for Lisa to take Ben to school before he finally jumped up from the couch. He worked fast, unzipping the stained cushion covers and carrying them to the laundry.

Sam hated that he had to lie to Lisa by faking sick, but when he had woken up, he’d seen the stain on the couch. The stain that came from Dean’s seed dripping out of him. He couldn’t risk it being seen, so he knew he had to at least try and get rid of it. Sam would have no way to explain the jizz stain, well, no explanation that wouldn’t out his relationship with Dean or bring him humiliation from a plausible lie. 

No, he would just wash the cushion covers and pray that if he used enough detergent that the evidence of the previous night would be washed away; just like when he showered and changed in the middle of the night.

Sam stuffed the cushion covers into the washing machine, along with his old sleep shirt and pants that he’d hidden under the couch. After using more detergent then he probably should have, Sam set the washer to the highest setting and pressed the ‘start’ button. Sam wished he could feel relief, but he just couldn’t. Not until he knew all the evidence was gone.

Having the whole house to himself was something Sam was used to, although his own home and the Braeden’s were on two vastly different sides of the spectrum.

Lisa had told Sam he had free rein of the kitchen and anything he wanted he could have. Usually Sam wouldn’t accept an offer like that, not wanting to intrude where he didn’t belong. His growling stomach, however, disagreed with his concern.

Every time Sam opened the fully stocked cabinets or fridge, he had to do a double take. It just wasn’t something he was used to and he hated that. Sam would stay at the Braeden’s forever if he could. He sincerely hoped they weren’t getting tired of his residency.

He ended up seated on the floor in front of the TV with a sandwich in hand, watching reruns of The Office, which always seemed to be on now. Sam didn’t mind, simply watching the antics of the characters, not a care in the world at the moment. Well, except for the fear of stained cushions.

Lisa worked during the day while Ben was at school, meaning neither of them would be back for hours. Same with Dean, who usually showed back up around dinner. Sam had hours to himself and nothing to consume the time other than the TV. Most kids would’ve been bored, but Sam was relieved that his day would be stress free.

An hour later the washing machine dinged, signaling the cushion covers were done. Sam pulled them out of the washer and examined them. Thankfully, the stain was gone. He exhaled in relief before shoving them into the dryer. 

Suddenly, the sound of a phone ringing echoed through the house. Sam furrowed his brows, but followed the sound nonetheless. 

When Sam made it to the living room, he quickly realized that it was his cellphone. He picked it up and answered with a small “hello?”

“Hey, Sam.” The voice on the other end of the phone, who Sam identified as Lisa, greeted. “Sorry to bother you, but could you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“There’s a notepad on my bedside table, I forgot to bring it with me to work, could you go find it and read me the numbers on it?” Lisa’s voice sounded rushed. Sam stood and headed for her room, realizing it was probably urgent.

“Yeah,” Sam said as he pushed her door open. He looked on the bedside table and found the notepad she was referring to. “Um,” Sam lifted it. “It says 6589… is that it?” Sam furrowed his brows, unsure of what it meant. It could’ve been a password or an address, maybe a code, but it didn’t matter anyway.

“Yes, thank you, Sam. Feel better.” Lisa thanked quickly before hanging up. Sam placed the notepad down with a small sigh. When he looked down at the bedside table, he saw something in the drawer that caught his eye.

Sam knew it was wrong to snoop, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling open the drawer. Inside was a few hair ties and chapsticks, but what caught Sam’s eyes was a pair of black, fuzzy handcuffs. 

A frown crossed Sam’s face and he swallowed through the lump in his throat. He knew what they were for and he knew Lisa must’ve used them when she was with Dean. Sam slammed the drawer shut and tried to ignore the sourness in his chest.

His curiosity was piqued and couldn’t seem to be ignored. Sam remembered the night he had found out Dean and Lisa were together, it often turned up in his nightmares. He remembered how Lisa had called him “sir”, adding to the disheartening feeling that Sam tried to keep dormant.

Sam wasn’t sure where average people kept things hidden, but the closet was his best guess. 

Sam pulled the closet doors open and looked around. There were clothes hanging like one would expect, along with some shoes neatly placed on the floor. Everything belonged to Lisa, which left Sam’s to wonder where all of Dean’s belongings were. 

That wondering was pushed aside when Sam found a medium sized box in the far corner. Sam knelt down and reached for the box, pulling it out of its corner. When Sam moved it out of the closet, he took a breath. He knew he shouldn’t be looking, it wasn’t his to see, but Sam couldn’t help himself.

The top popped off easily when Sam pulled it up. Sam set it to the side and looked into the box, a little gasp falling from his lips at the sight. 

Inside was a series of things, not much, but Sam knew they were all sex toys. Sam didn’t recognize almost any of it, aside from a whip, clamps, and a collar. Sam knew better than to pick up anything, but just scanning the items made an unsettled feeling wash over Sam.

These toys weren’t just Lisa’s, but Dean’s too. At least, Dean was the one using them on her. Sam shivered at the thought of his surrogate mother being in any sort of sexual scenario.

The longer he looked in the box, the more his mind drifted from Lisa to Dean. He knew they were together and of course that hurt, but Sam always kept in mind that Dean said he was special. But if he was so special, then why did Dean want Lisa? 

Did Dean inflict the same things upon Lisa that he did to Sam? Is that why Dean had them both call him by the same title?

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house. Sam's eyes snapped wide, full of panic. He threw the lid back onto the box and pressed down on the edges until it snapped closed. 

Before he could get the box into the closet, footsteps sounded from outside the bedroom. Sam watched in fear, waiting for Lisa to appear in the doorway. But, much to his confusion and relief, it wasn’t Lisa.

“I thought good boys minded their own business.” The teasing in Dean’s tone was familiar enough for Sam to feel almost at ease.

“What is all this?” Sam pouted, looking down to the box. Dean huffed out a small chuckle and approached, his arms crossed over his chest and a cocky smirk on his lips.

“I know you’re not that naive.”

“I mean… why do you need it? I know it’s not just Lisa’s.” Sam couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes, instead he focused them on the lid of the box.

“Is that jealousy I’m hearing?” Dean mused, staring down at the nervous young boy. Sam swallowed and shook his head, but Dean knew better. “If it’s any consolation, Lisa is just an outlet for when I can’t have you.”

Sam finally looked up to Dean, a frown on his lips and embarrassed blush on his cheeks. “You were with her before you were with me.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Sam felt his heart skip a beat at the nickname. Dean bent down slightly, enough for his hand to reach Sam’s cheek. He ran his calloused finger across Sam’s soft skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” 

“So you use her?” Sam questioned and got no answer. Lisa was a good person, she deserved better than being someone’s secondary, especially to Sam. She was caring, smart, and beautiful, while he was just… just Sam. He couldn’t dream of why Dean or even anyone would ever pick him. 

Then Sam’s mind drifted back to the box sitting right in front of him. “Do you make Lisa do stuff she doesn’t want to?” 

“Of course not.” Dean stated, standing up straight. “We’ve never used any of that. It’s new. She thought she could draw my attention back to her.” Sam believed him, but when he saw the way Dean’s brows furrowed, he knew the conversation wasn’t over. “What makes you think I would?” Sam stayed quiet, swallowing nervously at the question. “Do I ever make you do things you don’t want to?”

Once again, Sam remained silent. Dean was getting increasingly agitated and Sam was left unsure of what to do. Dean scoffed at the lack of response, his lip twitching into a sneer.

“So every time you beg for my cock, I’m making you do something you don’t want?” Dean hissed. “Every time I make you cum, you’re saying you don’t like it?”

“That- that’s not what I meant.” 

“Then what did you mean?” Dean glared, watching as Sam dropped his head even lower submissively.

“I don’t know.” Sam knew he’d upset Dean, he hated when he did that. Sam wished he could learn to keep his mouth shut and just be good like the older man wanted him to be. “I’m sorry.”

Dean stared at Sam for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“How about you put everything back where you found it and we can pretend I didn’t catch you in here. Sound good?” Dean said firmly, not leaving room for debate. Sam was left confused, wondering why Dean was going to let this go so easily.

“I- okay.” Sam complied, moving the box back into the closet. Sam then pushed himself up onto his feet and closed the closet door. “You’re not mad?” Sam asked shyly, lifting his gaze until his eyes met Dean’s striking ones.

“Do you want me to be?” Dean gave a hard look, raising a brow expectantly.

“No.” Sam whispered softly, his nervous gaze fluttering between Dean’s expression and his own feet.

“I didn’t think so.” Dean took a step closer to Sam, brushing his fingers through the younger boy’s hair. The hardness in his look had fallen.

“Why are you back so soon?” Sam's voice cracked with anxiety as the question came out when Dean’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“I didn’t have any patients today, just paperwork. I finished it so I took off early.” Dean explained with a sigh then licked his lips. “I wanted to come see what you’ve been up to.”

“Just watching TV…” Sam admitted, recognizing the tone in Dean’s voice, what Dean wanted from him. “I- I’m still tired. Can we just watch TV?” Sam asked weakly, waiting for Dean to dismiss his request and for that switch inside of the older man to flip.

Instead, Dean shrugged. “Lead the way.” Sam looked at him dumbfounded, but Dean just rolled his eyes. “Why is this so shocking to you? I didn’t sleep much last night after you and honestly? I’m tired. I just want to relax.”

Sam wasn’t used to this behavior from Dean. It was too… normal, in a way. Far too casual and relaxed. It reminded Sam of the way Dean was before their first time.

Now the man was usually jumping at any chance to get his hands on him. Sam expected it since they were alone, but maybe Dean was telling the truth. Sam would be just fine with that. In all honesty, he was tired and so, so sore. He needed a break and Dean managed to see that, taking mercy for once. Well, maybe not mercy, but close enough. 

Sam wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to rest, especially if it was with Dean.

“Okay.” Sam nodded, slipping past Dean and out the door. He heard the older man scoff out a laugh before following close behind. 

“Where are the cushion covers?” Dean questioned when they made it to the living room, gesturing to the couch.

“I washed them.” Sam remembered, heading for the laundry room. He retrieved the covers from the dryer and carried them back. “They were stained from… y’know… last night.” Sam said sheepishly as he returned with the now dry couch covers in his arms. 

Dean only responded with a hum, stepping back as Sam pulled the couch cushions off. He dropped to his knees, pulling the covers over the cushions and holding them between his thighs to keep them steady.

Dean just stared down, watching Sam complete his task. When Sam finished, he maneuvered the cushions back into place on the couch as if nothing had happened. Sam stood again and looked at Dean with a small smile. He always sought out approval no matter what, no matter how menial the task was. But, as usual, Sam was left hanging. No response from Dean.

Dean kicked off his shoes before dropping down to the couch. With a long, exhausted sigh, Dean rested his head on one arm of the couch and threw his feet to rest on the other. 

“What are you waiting for? C’mere.” Dean muttered, watching as Sam awkwardly shifted on his feet.

“You… you want me to lay on you?” Sam furrowed his brows, fiddling nervously with his fingers. Dean just scoffed, like it was so obvious. “Like cuddling?”

“If you wanna be such a girl about it.” Dean mocked, closing his eyes and nuzzling his head against the couch arm like a pillow.

Just like Dean knew he would, Sam crawled onto the couch. He looked down, taking in his awkward position over Dean. With a nervous sigh, Sam lowered himself down until his head was on Dean’s chest. 

Dean’s arm fell over Sam’s back, his fingers reaching just enough to be able to play with bits of Sam’s soft, brown locks. Sam allowed himself to relax when he felt Dean’s chest rising and falling beneath his head, his heartbeat steadily pumping in Sam’s ear.

The length of his body draped over Dean’s, Sam’s legs resting over his and socked feet bumping Dean’s. Sam’s arms were left uncomfortably at his sides, unsure what to do with them. 

“Stop squirming.” Dean muttered sleepily, his voice husky. 

Sam swallowed, allowing the rest of his weight to fall on Dean. In the end, Sam tucked his arms around the older man, hugging his torso. Sam closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing.

Under him, Dean’s steady breathing and heartbeat clued Sam into the fact that he had already managed to fall asleep. Sam glanced up and sure enough, he was right. Dean’s eyes were shut and his pink, plump lips were parted as he breathed softly. Sam dropped his head, his cheek resting on Dean’s chest, nuzzling against him like a pillow.

Sam wished it was always like this. He liked Dean like this, just wanting to sleep with Sam close by. The pleasure, while not sexual, put Sam at ease. He finally felt calm, like he could be at peace and trust Dean. Sam would never voice that thought, though, because he knew it was only momentary. Soon enough, Dean would want more from him. He always does, it’s inevitable.

If Dean hadn’t gotten what he wanted the night before, Sam knew he’d be in a much different position. 

Sam couldn’t stop his mind from racing. Maybe if he continued to please Dean, if he was good for him and did what Dean wanted, he could get more nice moments like this. Moments where he felt calm, but most of all, he could have intimacy with Dean on a much different level. 

Sam never had any kind of contact like this. He never got to just be held, to feel safe and secure in someone else’s arms. Sam couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been hugged. It was probably by Lisa, but he didn’t want to think about her.

Sam allowed his eyes to flutter shut and sighed in content. He pushed all of his racing thoughts away in an attempt to relax and join Dean in sleep. This was so different then what he had come to expect from the doctor and Sam couldn’t deny that he loved every second. 

It wasn’t long before Sam slowly drifted off, too

It was nearly two hours before he was woken up by the feel of Dean’s big, warm hand slipping into the waistband of his pants.

Sam kept his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep, unready to let go of the peacefulness he felt. Dean’s open palm rested over the right cheek of his ass, softly rubbing Sam’s smooth skin. It was an odd feeling, but not necessarily a bad one. Sam found himself not minding the sensation of Dean’s warm hand on bottom, even as the older man gave a light squeeze and hummed.

Sam tried to fall back asleep through Dean’s lazy groping, but when he felt Dean’s fingers sliding into the crack of his ass, Sam’s eyes shot open. Sam lifted his head from Dean’s chest and looked up to the doctor, who wore a small, tried smirk.

“I knew you were awake.” Dean chuckled, moving his hand back to Sam’s buttcheek. “Your skin is always so soft, especially down here.” 

Sam didn’t respond to the comment, instead he felt an odd combination of relief and disappointment that Dean’s fingers hadn’t even touched his hole. A flash of fear shot through Sam and he briefly wondered if Dean was bored of him. 

That concern, however, was put to rest when Sam felt Dean’s cock starting to fill out from under him. Dean still wanted him, even if he didn’t act on it at the moment.

Sam tried his hardest to not think of what he would do if Dean ever became bored of him. The thought terrified him, having Dean and then suddenly losing him entirely. 

“You just got all tense, are you alright?” Dean’s voice was a deep rumble that made Sam’s skin prickle. The sound of Dean’s voice was soothing in a way, and being combined with words of concern had Sam loving it even more. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Do you care about me?” Sam asked meekly, squeezing his eyes shut the second the words left his mouth. He couldn’t look at Dean, unable to face the older man if he didn’t get the answer he prayed for.

Dean was quiet for a long moment, like he hadn’t expected the question. Or maybe he was thinking over it. Sam held his breath, desperate for Dean to just answer him.

“‘Course I do.” He finally responded in a low mutter. Sam heard, though. Despite his dismissive tone, Sam swore he heard at least a hint of certainty. Like maybe Dean actually meant it. That hope was enough for Sam. 

In a moment of bravery, Sam made a confession to the older man. “I care about you.” Sam rested his chin on Dean’s chest, looking up at him with what Dean could only describe as “puppy eyes.”

“Yeah, I know you do.” Was Dean’s response after a few, yet very long, moments. 

Sam felt his heart skip a beat as he stared into Dean’s eyes. They held a look Sam couldn’t quite place, but they were still beautiful and so mesmerizing. When Dean poked his tongue out to wet his lips, Sam’s gaze fell. 

Maybe it was because Dean was being gentle and calm, even kind, that had Sam seeing him as irresistible. He wasn’t used to anything like this and the fact that it was Dean giving him positive attention made it much more desirable.

In an act of bravery, Sam placed his hands on either side of Dean on the couch and moved forward. It was a bit of a squirming movement which had Dean scoffing out an amused laugh. The sound was quickly silenced when Sam crashed his lips to Dean’s. 

Sam wasn’t used to taking charge; his kiss was a bit sloppy as he drove his tongue into Dean’s mouth. The older man let Sam have control just once, curious to see where Sam would take this. 

Turns out, he wouldn’t get to find out because Dean heard the sound of a car engine just outside the house. 

Sam whined when Dean put a hand to his chest and pushed him away. There was a look of hurt in his eyes, worried he’d done something wrong. Before Dean could explain, the front door was opening. Dean stood from the couch and when Ben stomped through the door, Sam caught on. 

Sam faced the TV quickly, his lips kiss-swollen and his cheeks a deep shade of pink. 

“Ben!” He heard Lisa call after her son, who’d already disappeared back to his room. Sam heard a door slam and he flinched. He hated that sound, it was usually a signal that his dad was back. Sam shook his head softly to rid those thoughts. He was safe here, he needed to focus on that. 

“What happened?” Dean asked curiously and Lisa sighed. Sam didn’t even spare a glance their way, waiting for his heart rate to go down. Being caught with Dean was definitely not on his to-do list. It was nerve racking, how close they’d gotten to being seen. 

“He’s grounded for the rest of the week. He has two Fs and apparently has made no effort to get his grades up.” Lisa summarized, annoyance clear in her tone.

“I can help him.” Sam offered, looking over the couch and giving a reassuring smile Lisa’s way.

“Ben is perfectly capable and needs to learn to do things himself. He needs to start taking responsibility and put in the effort.” Lisa explained. “Dean, sweetie, I’m too tired to cook. Could you order a pizza while I get changed?”

“Sure thing.”

Lisa excused herself after that. Sam’s eyes drifted to Dean, watching as he pulled out his phone. 

“What kind of pizza do you want?” Dean asked, glancing at Sam briefly before looking back to his phone. 

“I… I get to pick?”

There was genuine shock in Sam’s voice that made Dean pause dialing the number. He furrowed his brows a bit and cast his eyes to Sam.

“Yeah, kid. What do you want?”

His dad never asked what Sam wanted, not even for dinner. Usually he’d bring home something greasy that made Sam feel sick. Pizza wasn’t all that bad, but his dad always overloaded it with toppings that he knew Sam hated, just so he could watch his son frown and spend minutes picking them off.

“Is cheese okay?” Sam asked softly, unsure if Dean’s offer for him to pick was true.

Dean gave a nod and a mumbled “okay,” before pressing the call button. Sam watched as Dean lifted the phone to his ear and placed the order. The words seemed to fade away as Sam focused on his Dean’s plump lips moved as he spoke, how his emerald eyes glanced towards Sam when he caught him staring.

Sam sighed in what he assumed was content. Dean was just so… transfixing, even in normalcy- especially in normalcy. Sam couldn’t help but favor Dean in his casual manner. Sam could watch Dean forever. 

“What’s up with you?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes at Sam. Sam hasn’t even realized that Dean had hung up the phone and faced him fully.

“What?” Sam squeaked out, his cheeks tinting pink with blush. “Nothing.” Sam lied after clearing his throat.

“Mmhm.” Dean hummed, not buying it for a second. He opened his mouth to demand the truth from the boy, but Lisa chose that moment to reappear and he snapped his mouth shut.

“Pizza’s on the way.” Dean told Lisa as she approached him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and Sam’s heart stopped.

“Mmm thank you.” She hummed before pressing up on her toes.

Sam felt his stomach drop when Lisa placed a kiss on Dean’s lips. The same lips Sam had been kissing moments ago. He turned away, taking a shaky breath as tears started to well up in his eyes. 

This was the part Sam hated. Lisa could have Dean whenever she wanted, but Sam was his dirty secret. Sam wished he could stare at Dean for all eternity, wished he could kiss him whenever he desired, and maybe even be held in Dean’s arms. He wanted what Lisa had with Dean, but he wouldn’t dream of taking that away from Lisa. She was happy, completely oblivious to the lies. A part of Sam knew that was better in a way.

The truth would be too brutal- too much to handle.

Suddenly, a pounding knock sounded from the door.

“Wow, that was fast.” Lisa muttered, releasing Dean and heading for the door. “I thought you just called it in.”

“Barely a minute ago.” Dean confirmed, skepticism in his voice.

The banging from the door got louder, the wood rattling on its frame. That’s when realization struck Sam. His eyes went wide, fear running through him as his heart began to race. Sam sprung from the couch and ran to Lisa, trying to stop her from opening the door, but he was a second too late.

“John,” she gasped after opening the door, surprised by the unexpected yet long overdo guest. Sam froze in the doorway, eyes meeting his father’s. John’s appearance was disheveled; clothing ruffled, hair a mess, and eyes sunken. On top of that, he stank of booze.

“I’m here for my son.” John said firmly. Despite not slurring a word- he’d gotten good at masking his drunkenness- the smell was strong enough to make Lisa cringe. 

“John,” she whispered, eyes darting from him to the car parked halfway in the grass of her driveway. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

John snorted, eyes glancing from her to Sam. “He’s my son, that’s not up to you.” 

Sam knew that deep down, his father didn’t miss him. Hell, he didn’t care at all. In reality, he probably just got bored of not having someone to push around and bully. Without Sam at home, there was no one to talk down to and take his frustrations out on.

“It’s not safe.” Lisa kept her voice hard, standing up straighter. John just chuckled and rolled his eyes. Then his face went cold and he lurched forward, his hand gripping Sam’s bicep tight and yanking him hard. Lisa screamed as she was knocked out of the way by Sam stumbling forward.

Dean intervened, pulling Sam out of John’s rough grasp. Sam choked back a sob as Dean shoved him behind his body. Lisa rushed to Sam, taking him into her arms and holding him protectively.

“You need to get the hell away from here and stay gone.” Dean’s voice was harsh- nearly a growl. 

John clenched his jaw, glaring at Dean. In a matter of seconds he was swinging his fist towards Dean’s face. Dean dodged the hit and in turn, he punched John square in the face.

Sam and Lisa both gasped at the sound of the punch. Lisa squeezed Sam tighter and turned her head away. Sam couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from his father stumbling back and cupping his nose. 

“I’m not gonna say it again. Stay. The. Hell. Away. From. Sam.” Dean growled out forcefully. 

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” John scoffed out a laugh, dropping his hand from his face. Sam’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of blood dripping from his dad’s newly disfigured nose.

John looked past Dean, giving Sam a look that always had him cowering. “You wanna be his new daddy?” John mocked, turning his attention away from his terrified son back to Dean. “Fine.” 

John practically snarled before spitting blood onto Dean’s shirt. Dean didn’t even flinch, which Sam swore shocked his father slightly. John was used to using intimidation to get his way, but Dean seemed… immune. Strong enough to not give in.

“You can have him.” John looked Sam dead in the eye from over Dean’s shoulder. “He’s worthless anyway.”

John turned his back, but Dean wasn’t going to let him have the last word. His hand shot out to grip John’s shoulder and he turned the man. Dean launched his already bruised fist forward again, this time his knuckles collided with John’s cheek. 

Before John could react, Dean slammed the door in his bloodied face. Then, he locked the door, although that was more for Lisa and Sam’s sake.

Dean turned to them, taking in the way Lisa clung to Sam in her protective hold. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, eyes falling too Sam.

“Yeah, just… god, I should’ve prepared for that to happen.” Lisa answered instead, voice shaky, refusing to let Sam go.

Dean kept his eyes on Sam, not speaking until the boy gave a gentle nod. “Good. He’s not going to bother you anymore.”

“He’ll be back.” Sam said in nearly a whisper, voice filled with sorrow. It was inevitable. Dean wouldn’t always be there to save the day. Eventually, Sam would be left alone and his father would use that to his own advantage. 

Sam was naive to think something good could last, he should’ve realized that sooner. Sam could never have the happiness he craved, not with his father still out there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is amazing and fuel for me to write more :)


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